What You Don't Know
by nickygillian
Summary: AU all human. Bella just needed a tutor she didn't expect the complications that would arise.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Disclaimer: I don't own characters, themes or anything related to what is written here. I've completely re-written this chapter but it's the same idea ;)**

"Whenever I hear French spoken as I approve, I find myself quietly falling in love"  
-Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton

Chapter One: part one

"Mom I'm leaving; I'll see you soon, don't forget the pizza in the oven," I called as I pushed the front doors' knob in, twisting it left so as to enable the locking device.

"Yeah, yeah," she returned, her arm popping around the corner to wave dismissively. I shook my head infinitesimally at her nonchalance.

I closed the door behind me and quickly checked to make sure that it was indeed locked before walking carefully down the icy path. My mother and I had made a pact to always lock the door behind us regardless if someone was still home; it was a safety measure, though she was too scatterbrained to remember most of the time. Two women living alone needed to take care of themselves, and a locked door made us feel safer.

It was October twenty-fifth and there was already a fine layer of ice coating the streets. The dew had frozen the grass into clumps that caught the diminishing sunlight, sparkling like a beacon and creating patterns in the lawns. It was beautiful and off-putting; like an alien planet.

It was always cold at this time of year; usually there was snow before Hallowe'en in this city*. When I was a child I had cried and begged my mother to let me wear my costume without the bulky winter wear. She'd never listened to me, of course, until the year I turned eight.

That year I had begged her right up to the day of, right up 'till the last moment. I'd dressed as the little mermaid so of course she'd dismissed me. As I sat beside her in the car riding home from school with my tiny plastic bag of candy corn clutched in my greedy fingers and wearing a flannel encased windbreaker over my costume, she'd finally seen my reason or maybe she just couldn't deny me.

It had been two years since Charlie, my father, had moved back to Forks, away from us. I was used to spending my summers with him and so had only been back for a few months. I think my mother worried I'd leave her if she didn't play 'nice parent.' Pairing that along with my childlike innocence, all I'd had to do is look up at her and beg one last time.

And finally she'd relented, "Fine Bella. You do as you like."

I had two houses worth of the perfect costume, that ugly sparkly version Renee had bought at the corner store. It was really a cheap rip-off of Disney but when you're eight you hardly care, or maybe I did care, it's hard to recall things like that. But it was my mother and she didn't have time to sew like other mom's seemed to. Even back then I was used to that.

Two houses; that was all I could handle. I'd been out with my friend Angela and she'd watched me with my left arm holding my mostly exposed midriff in any attempt to hold warmth while she wore a coat and a sweater. She'd looked at me like a parent might, like she already knew what was to come. After that second house she'd taken my shivering hand and pulled me back to the house where my mother was waiting, laughing her knowing laugh. She passed me my parka and a pair of snowboarder gloves and we'd left once again.

As I walked now breathing in the harshly cold air, I remembered that moment as best I could, knowing that it was probably the last stupid, childish thing I ever did. As the next few years passed I'd become the parent in our household.

Even if I'd become the mature, responsible one I still needed help. Everyone does in some things; which was why I was walking to the library on this particular day. The library was close, probably only a fifteen minuet walk even with my slow pace. The wind blew angrily, drying my skin as it pounded against me, chapping my lips.

I pulled my books closer to my chest in a ridiculous attempt to bring myself more warmth, like I had all those years ago in my childhood rebellion. My binder slipped from my hold and I frowned as I bent to retrieve it. 'French' it said in black ink, written in my ugly script. It was standard at my school to learn a second language. I'd put it off, a bad habit I'd certainly picked up from my mother, and so now, in my last year of high school, I had to take French*.

I didn't mind being in a class with the younger students, it didn't bother me in the slightest, what I did mind was being completely lost. Some people get languages easily, me on the other hand was awful at it. I could handle English and that was it. Everything else went through one ear and hid around the central nerve never to be understood.

I hated the fact that now I'd have to sit in my favourite place and try to study through the verbs and nouns; even worse, the pronunciation. It didn't embarrass me that I had to get a tutor, I wasn't one of those people who would be ashamed of the fact that something just didn't make sense; it was that I didn't see a point to it.

I would never go to France; I'd never even go to Quebec. There was little to no chance I'd need to know any other language. But the school system is how it is and I wasn't going to pass without semi figuring out another language. I shook my head with self pity one final time as I pulled open one of the library* doors.

I came in with another gust of the freezing wind and two librarians looked up as I did so. Both were wearing sweaters. I smiled at each in turn, stifling a giggle when I noticed one of the sweaters was elaborately decorated with pumpkins, scary trees, graves and a hauntingly full moon.

As I walked past the front desk and to where the work tables were I pulled off my gloves. I eyed the tables, embarrassed, while I searched for someone who appeared to be waiting for me. There were few people in this section which was common. The wooden cubicles with electrical plug-ins were around the corner, this area was mostly devoted to what I was coming here for, tutoring. As I examined each table and its' occupants, if they held any, a pair of eyes broke from a book they'd been engrossed in.

I had never felt more naked as they raked over me. The boy that sat at the ugly ergonomic white table was beyond good looking, he was exquisite. His face was too perfect, a drawing with extremely precise calculations. My head randomly brought me back to my grade nine art class* and what we had learnt about facial proportions. In spite of myself I judged his eye width in relation to his nose, perfectly in sync. I looked away and down to the other tables before the awful realization hit me; he was the only one sitting all alone. Blushing, knowing I'd probably already made myself seem foolish I walked toward his table avoiding his gaze.

As I approached I felt his eyes trained to me. Fear, strangely, curled around me as I opened my mouth, "You wouldn't happen to be Edward Cullen, would you?" I bit my lip anxiously as I brought my eyes up; avoiding his eyes I focused on the rest of his face.

He grinned and his hand came into my vision as he held it out. I eyed it and shifted my books so I could shake it. "Isabella Swan?" I nodded apprehensively as our hands connected.

"Bella," I interjected startled at how abominable I felt when I touched him. But it felt almost… so right… that I pulled my hand quickly back; knowing I was unworthy, "You can just call me Bella."

His hand slid away and made a show of offering me a seat. I sheepishly glanced right and left before sitting down across from him. I laid my books on my lap before pulling my hat off and thrusting my fingers into the mass of brown hair that fell around my shoulders. It was hopeless, I knew, but I wanted to brush some of it out; look civilized.

If I had anticipated my tutor to be an attractive boy I would have borrowed my mother's car, not braved the cold wind that would ultimately roughen my skin and tangle my hair.

I laid my things on the chair beside me before shrugging out of my coat. He eyed me intently as I went about undressing in front of him. I flushed simply at the thought and moved my books so they were sitting in front of me on the table.

"Bella then, what were you having problems with?"

Right now I was having problems focusing on what I was here for actually, but I couldn't say that. I pulled out the textbook and opened it to a previously bookmarked page. "Mostly everything. Sentence structure, numbers, animals, body parts, simple words," I laughed humourlessly as I tilted my head up to stare at Edward.

He eyed my textbook before jotting down something in his notebook. "Okay, that's something we can defiantly work on. Any specific parts you're confused about; things you'd wish to start on?" When he looked up he finally caught my eyes. They bore into me; a diluted shade of green that captured ones attention without trying. Almost like a forest blended together, condensed; maybe even reptilian* in their colour.

I pulled back upon noticing my inclination; I must have looked ridiculous leaning toward. "I'm wretched at French," I admitted shattering the moment.

One side of his mouth pulled up before he let out a small chuckle, he pulled it back instantly, "Sorry, I'm not laughing at you," he returned and I blushed simply because I hadn't thought about that possibility, "What are your goals," he paused as if re-examining his word choice, "for French?"

I scrunched up my eyes wondering exactly what that meant, "I really just have to pass."

He nodded, "That is certainly something we can achieve."

"I hope so," I whispered.

He caught my words, "We will," he told me assurance heaped upon his words, "Don't let my appearance deceive you; I might not be much older than you but I am excellent with languages. You're not the first I've tutored either and I've never had a student fail."

I smiled carefully, "I'll probably be the exception to your skills."

He ignored my jibe as he reached for my binder, "Can I see what you've worked on so far?" His voice was smooth and persuasive; he could have asked me for my first born and I would've handed it over as easily.

"Hmm," he mumbled as he raked over the imperfect translations that I'd scratched onto the page. I was oddly embarrassed of my messy scrawl as I compared it to the small notes on Edward's own paper. His long index finger followed along as his eyes roamed the page. "You're actually not far off."

I quickly surveyed the paragraph he pointed to. It was one I had worked on for hours. "Are you sure? It's not choppy grammatically?"

"Well," He stressed, "It's choppy but I think you're running into roadblocks with placement. It's hard; I know; when your first language is English." He pointed to the first sentence. "See this," he tapped it again, "this is a standard mistake 'est-il' isn't where it should be." He paused as he rewrote the sentence in the margins. "It should be after 'le personnel' and before 'qualifie,'" His accent was beautiful and romantic even though the broken sentence itself was anything but. "'Are the helpers properly trained.'?" He translated.

"Oh," I managed not sure what else to say.

"On a personal note how are you doing in your class?"

I blanched before I answered, "I'm not sure exactly, somewhere around 40."

"Hmm," he mused.

I bit my bottom lip. "I know it's bad but…" I trailed off. His eyes challenged my own again when he looked up.

"No, it's not bad, we can easily improve." His pupils dilated as the moment pushed itself irresponsibly past its comfortable limit. Coughing, he pulled my textbook back into his hands. I heard him flip the pages before he settled on one, "Let's start here."

For the next hour I amazingly focused, mainly by avoiding his touch, his eyes, everything about him except his words. Even those were distracting, actually, but when you placed them on their own, without the visual to confound me, I pulled through. "Same time next week?" He asked as we both collected our things.

"Yes, I'll be here." I ventured a small look up at him, "Thank-you," I added before passing him the twenty dollars that our meeting had cost me. He took it from my hands, his fingers gently touching my own causing my heart to speed. I pulled my hand back anxious, watching him as he tucked the bill into the book he'd been reading before the lesson. It was a worn out personal copy of 'Alice in Wonderland.'

"Of course, it was a pleasure meeting you Bella," I forced a smile as I watched him walk away, the yellow* covered book held tightly in his fist twined with his spiral notebook. I sighed as I ungracefully trailed behind, having waited enough time that it didn't feel like I was stalking him. Instead of continuing to the doors I made a sharp left toward the classics section figuring I might as well relax into a good book before I headed home.

The carpet was grey with hints of a blue tick throughout. It wasn't soft or plush; instead it felt as if it was simply laid right over concrete. I stretched my arms before I sank down onto it; it was certainly as hard as I'd imagined it'd be. I scanned the titles, grabbed the Jane Austen's from the rows and rested my back on the metal bookshelves. But even Austen couldn't get Edward Cullen out of the forefront of my mind.

And the worst thing, I couldn't help smiling thinking about next week.

**NOTES:**

* Hallowe'en: It almost always snows on, _just _before or just after Hallowe'en where I live. I've never been able to trick or treat without a parka, bunnyhug, hat, longjohns and all the other assortments of winter clothing shoved under and over my costume.

* French: Originally I wrote this story with Math tutoring in mind. I had a math tutor in grade twelve, first semester so I thought it'd be easy to relate to. I was going to get the math book I used to learn with and then re-learn it all so I could easily talk about it but unfortunately I couldn't seem to find that volume. No I do not speak French so if I mess up, well so be it. I know enough to read French instructions and the back of cereal boxes; so basically I know nothing. I took it up to grade eight so it's been a long, long while.

* Library: This is a real library that I happen to work at, though I've very slightly tweaked it. Tutoring is a major thing there and it happens at the tables described.

*Grade nine art: I didn't learn proportions in grade nine art class. The teacher thought we were ridiculously stupid and couldn't understand numbers. I did in fact learn human facial proportions in grade eleven. Seriously grade nine art, in my school, was pretty much what I learned in preschool.

*Reptile eyes: One of my old friends said, "Wow your eyes are like reptiles," to me. I thought it was funny and used it. So no I'm not saying he has yellow reptile eyes, I'm saying his eyes are green.

* Yellow 'Alice in Wonderland': to my knowledge this means his edition is the Dover Thrift Edition that was printed in 1993.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Yes I completely re-wrote the first chapter, well re-wrote in the sense that I used it as a skeleton and changed little facts such as now they are talking French instead of math. Seriously, who wants to read about numbers, at least French is romantic, in my opinion.**

Chapter One: part two

"Do you mind if we work on pronunciation for a bit?" He asked as he flipped through the last written page in my notebook.

"Uh," I mumbled, "Yeah sure, I'm going to butcher it, you are aware of that, right?" I was trying to keep the mood light and so far it had been working. When I had arrived at the library today he hadn't been waiting, which might, just might, have something to do with the fact that was twenty minutes early.

It's embarrassing to admit but I hadn't thought about much other that Edward the whole week. Now that we were here together my heart sped and I was super aware of an intense feeling of warmth. My stomach was dancing around and I could almost swear I was going to be sick. That was what Edward Cullen was doing to me; me, who just a week ago hadn't had any romantic inclinations to anyone.

Last time we'd been sitting across from each other and that space had seemed intimate but now Edward was right next to me, his arm just a fraction away from my own. I had to remind myself to lean away from him to keep myself from doing something creepy, like smelling him.

I was surprised he'd sat beside me but he didn't seem to think much of it. I didn't affect him at all.

"Try this sentence," he pointed to the assignment I'd written after our first session. It was a list of basic expressions that I'd previously translated. I was fairly confident in the arrangement of the French words on the page only because the sentences were so short.

'Please write it down' was the English translation and I shakily opened my mouth to attempt the French, "Puhrez voo lecrear sil voo pleh*?"

I had to give it to Edward, he didn't laugh at my poor accent or obviously forced attempt at speaking the foreign language. "Pooryay," he said. I nodded, the blush creeping up my cheeks, "Repeat after me. We'll take it really slow. Pooryay," he spoke the word softy, surely and slowly. Basically every s word you could imagine.

"Pooryay?"

"Yes. The z is silent, you see? Pooryay voo laykreer."

I repeated after him, not going anywhere near his perfect accent.

"Seel voo pleh," he finished.

"Seel voo pleh," I mimicked.

He smiled, "You were almost right on with that part your first try," he praised. "S'il was the only part you had a hard time on."

"And I should really know that too," I sighed frustrated. "'Please'," I shook my head, "I've definitely translated 'please' before. Even here, people say that all the time. I should know that."

"You just need to take it slowly, memorize and repeat. Sometimes the obvious things take us by surprise." He grinned down at me, his bronze hair catching the light making him look like a prophet, portraying him as tutelary. I snapped my head back to the page before I became completely enraptured with him.

He was just trying to help me and I was becoming a moonstruck psycho. I felt my cheeks heat as I turned crimson. "'Why is that?'"

My vision blurred; could he read my mind; my body language? Was he asking me why I was falling all over myself; why I was blushing?

"Can you translate that without your book?" he finished. I took a sharp breath.

Wow, I needed to get my head on track, "pourkca?"

"Poorkwa," he corrected.

He scribbled the word at the bottom of the page, 'Pourquoi?.'

"The Q U O I," he separated the letters out loud, "Sound like wah."

"Oh," I replied lamely.

"What about 'why not'? Can you try that without any other help?"

"Poorkwa pa?"

"Perfect." He ripped a page out of his notebook. "I've written a bunch of basic words, mostly food, in French. Can you translate them; then we can try their pronunciations?"

"Uh sure," I took the sheet avoiding his touch, worried that this time I might not pull back as quickly as I should. Sometimes it's best to avoid situations you're not sure about.

"Leave the ones you have no idea about, we'll go through them."

I nodded, looking at page with extreme interest. Maybe it was good that Edward was my tutor. I wanted to impress him so throughout the past week I'd studied harder than I'd ever had before. Wanting someone to think highly of you was encouraging; it might be the only reason I'd pass.

I clicked my ballpoint pen so the nub was out, took a look at Edward, who had already submerged himself in 'Alice in Wonderland,' before attempting the problems.

-------

There were only two words I wasn't sure of when I raised my head. Edward's eyes were dark, shaded behind the flimsy book. I couldn't help smiling at his intensity over the book that most would say was directed at children. It was endearing, it was nice to know he had hobbies, interests. I gritted my teeth when the realization hit, I was starting to get involved in Edward's personality. It was one thing to find yourself attracted to someone, another to really like them.

I clicked my pen, retracting the point which snapped Edward's attention. He lowered the book, "Sorry," he mumbled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I just figured you'd be uncomfortable if I stared at you while you worked."

"No, no it's fine." Actually it was preferable; I didn't think I would have gotten done any work if he'd watched me.

"So, 'Alice in Wonderland'…" I trailed off. His eyebrows knitted together slightly and he looked repentant, like I'd caught him doing something shameful. Not wanting him to think I was judging him I quoted, ""_Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her ripper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how she would gather about her other little children, and make _their _dream of Wonderland of long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.""_

His eyes widened, "You've memorised that?"

I looked down, "I have a thing about last sentences, I mean, like, last sentences in books." I shrugged, "My mom teaches kindergarten, I've read 'Alice in Wonderland' many times, well, I guess I should say 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.*'"

"Hmm," he sounded strange so I returned my gaze to his. I bit my lip awkwardly. "Oh sorry," he blinked a few times, "You're finished, let's see how you did."

--------

I fell asleep thinking about Edward Cullen and his repentant look; thinking of his voice, his eyes, the way his fingers caressed the page. So it was easy to imagine secret lives with the boy, it was easy to see futures that weren't realistic and poorly matched hands together. After all he made me feel something vague, something strange, something unorthodox or maybe it was all the opposite.

I couldn't help smiling, I couldn't help anything.

My cell phone rang at five am; wrenching me out of my childhood fantasies, it was a good thing too; sometimes you just shouldn't fantasize about things and people you can't have.

With a groggy hand I reached for the phone that I'd left on my bedside table. I knocked over a glass of water from the night before. "Fuck," I whispered in a throaty voice, deeper from sleep. I grabbed the phone, pressed talk and stuck it to my ear as I got out of bed. "Hello," I managed as I trudged out of the room and toward the bathroom.

The sound of tears met my ears, "Bella," she croaked.

"Alice? Are you okay, what's wrong?" I tugged a hand towel from a banister before making my way back to my mess.

"N-o, yes, maybe, I don't know." She stumbled on her words, cracking around the syllables.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, trying to keep my volume down.

"Can you come over?"

"Are you at your dad's?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll be there," the phone disconnected just as I started dabbing the water up. I shuffled the phone into my left hand, clicked 'end' before tossing it onto my bed. I threw the damp towel into the laundry room and I went to the kitchen to write my mother a note.

'Gone to Alice's be home before school,' I jotted. I stuck the note on the table and hurried to the front entrance. Putting on my coat and grabbing the keys, I scurried out the door. It was pitch black and smelt like winter, you know that smell, almost like metal, campfire, smoke, Everest trees, something like that, _that_ smell.

The 1997 car was parked outside the garage just because my mom had forgotten to call for someone to check what was wrong with the garage door. Or maybe it was that I had forgotten to remind my mother to call; maybe I should have called.

I raked my hand through my hair before putting it into reverse and heading across town to see Alice.

--------

I didn't knock on the front door, I was used to Alice enough to know that was a bad move, instead, just before I arrived I called her. She didn't bother picking up but by the time I'd walked up the front stoop, the door opened.

"Hey," she mumbled, old tears streaking down her face. She was wearing a dirty white t-shirt and a pair of black yoga pants. Her hair hadn't been brushed and she was shivering.

I pulled her into a hug as I closed the door and she leaned against me and let out a deep sob. "Shh, Shh, Alice, what's wrong?"

She let go, turning her back to me and walking through the living room and to her own room without a word. I followed, tripping over boxes and the frayed carpet, catching myself on the 70's orange wall. By the time I reached her room she was laying on the bed, curled up, looking used and wasted. I tapped the door as closed as the frame would allow and sat on the ground at her feet, leaning my back on the bed.

"Is your dad home?" I asked in a meek voice.

She snorted, "No, he's still at the bar." I should have assumed.

"What happened?" I asked again.

"Tyler came over," she sobbed again, "Fucking broke in, basically, stole a key* when we were still together. I told him to get out," She paused, coughing around the words, "and he wouldn't."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" I turned my head anxiously trying to get a good look at her. She didn't look hurt or maybe I should say she didn't look bruised or cut or any of the physical hurts a person can give.

"No, not exactly," she hiccupped and I had to turn away from her, it was too hard to look. "He locked himself in the bathroom, wouldn't leave, I didn't know what to do. I thought he might do something crazy, something stupid, my razors are in there, you know. Just my leg ones, but… People get creative when they're angry."

"Oh my god," I wheezed.

"I ended up calling Jasper. He made it over in less then ten minutes but I think that just made Tyler angrier." She sobbed and I got up and flopped on the bed beside her, holding her close. "So, so we ended up calling the cops. It was a mess. God, Bella why do these things keep happening?"

"Shh," I cooed, rocking her carefully. "It's okay, it'll be okay. What did the cops do?"

She snorted, "Gave Tyler a warning, basically. Threw him out. Jasper wanted to stay and… and we argued about that because he had the nightshift. Eventually he listened to reason. And then I was so alone. I felt so alone."

"You're not alone."

"I'm sorry I called you. You have school in a couple hours," she raised her head a fraction to read the clock. "I shouldn't have called, It's a half hour drive over here, I'm sorry. God, and you took your mother's car?"

"Yeah, but its fine."

"No, it's not fine at all. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have called."

"No, stop that Hun, don't think about that. It's doesn't matter."

"No," she let me go, pushing me away a fraction, and sat up. "You should go get ready for school."

"Are you sure? I can call Renee…"

"No, I'm fine. I just needed to talk. Jasper will be off soon anyway. I'll call you after class."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she laughed without humor, "Go on, get, get."

And I left, bitterly, worriedly, because there was nothing else I could do.*

--------

I was still thinking about Alice as the week passed. Thinking about her was easier than thinking about Edward. It was substantial to worry about her; it was silly to think of Edward.

He beat me there. Already at the tables; his head in 'Tuck Everlasting' with that same overeager expression, by the time I approached.

I stood in front of him, at the other side of the table, hovering. "'_And soon they were rolling on again, leaving Treegap behind, and as they went, the tinkling little melody of a music box drifted out behind them and was lost at last far down the road.'"_ I quoted.

He dropped the book in surprise; it hit the table with a thud. I sat down across from him, "Sorry didn't mean to surprise you."

"No, no that's fine."

I swallowed loudly suddenly uneasy, "You've read it before, I'm not ruining the last sentences of the books you're trying to read, am I?"

He laughed and the right side of his mouth quirked up. Wow, that was breathtaking. "No, you're not. I think it's amazing you can remember those so perfectly."

"It's just one of those things," I shrugged absently. "Like how some people remember phone numbers or all the lyrics to every song written by Queen."

"I don't know, singing along to a popular song or memorizing numbers you call all the time isn't so hard."

I let a soft laugh escape, "Or knowing more than one language," I countered.

"More than five actually."

"What do you do all day, translate books?"

He scowled ironically, "No, what do you do all day? Read the last line of thousands of books twenty times*?"

I giggled. "That's cute," I rolled my eyes.

His smile fell as he shook his head, "And speaking of other languages…"

**Notes:**

* French pronunciation: I think it's easier to write out how they sound then try to make sense of French spelling with what they're talking about. Hopefully this isn't super confusing.

* "Alice in Wonderland": Um, yeah sorry I actually JUST realized I was calling the book this and not 'The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland'. This is a note of apology to anyway he gets annoyed when people let Disney titles stay in the forefront.

*Stolen Key: This happened to a separate friend. Her sister dated this crazy guy who stole her key ring, broke into their house a couple times and ultimately stole and relocated their car.

* The whole Alice situation: Her whole break in ex-boyfriend plus call friend over are two separate situations that happened to me. I think it's interesting to base things off real life, helps me remember things.

* Twenty times: Someone once told me if you repeat something twenty times it gets stuck in your head/memorized. I don't know if this is true and I'm too lazy to put it to any test but that's what Edward is talking about.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Wow I can't believe I forgot to thank people for reading and reviewing in the last chapter. So Major extra thanks-you!! And as for the 'T' rating; I'm never sure what exactly will happen as the story progresses so I feel it's better to be safe than sorry.**

Chapter One: part three

"And speaking of languages; how'd your week go?"

I swallowed loudly thinking back on the past week, mostly thinking about Alice, wondering what I would feel like in her situation. I looked down at my notebook; my hair cascading over my eyes, irritatingly tickling my bare skin. I flipped a few pages, trying to focus on French.

"Avez-vous des enfants?" I asked only slightly avoiding his question.

He laughed, "Non, je n'en ai pas, je ne suis pas marie," he answered.

My brow crinkled in confusion. "No you don't, you're what?"

He laughed again. "You asked, 'do you have any children' and I answered. 'No I don't have any, I'm not married.'"

"You hardly have to be married to have children," I pointed out.

His head shook as he leaned back, to me the way the chair angled looked precarious, but he didn't seem to notice any danger. He closed his eyes before he replied. "What's the difference?" His voice sounded deeper than usual, "That's the thing about our time, this time; it doesn't matter if you're married, single, male or female. Well… in some cases it matters I suppose," His eyes slid open and he blinked at me, "but the marriage should mean something. Right?*" He righted his chair and the full force of his eyes fell on me.

"Uh…"

"Sorry," he cut me off before I could think of anything substantial to comment back, "Not the point; not the point at all."

I opened my mouth once again, pushing back my hair so that we could really look at one another but again he interrupted, "What I mean is sometimes I get off track. What about you. Est-ce que vouce etes mariee?"

He wanted to know if I was married, I could figure that out from his last French spout, "Oui, mon femme est la-bas."

He chuckled like I'd expected him to. "Where's your wife; over where?"

I pointed, "Vers la gauche." I had told him to the left, or at least that was what I assumed I'd told him. I shrugged after I turned to examine the left since there wasn't a single person in sight. "Invisible," I added.

By the time I turned back he had a new odd expression twisting his features. "Un petit ami*?" He asked seriously.

"Uh, do I have any short friends?"

"Not quite." Biting my lip I turned to my notebook, desperate to figure his question out. His hand came out of nowhere pulling the book to him. "Don't worry about it. We're not there yet. So tell me about your wife; what colour are her eyes?"

--------

"Do you know when your next test is?" He asked, his head leaning lazily against his hand.

"I think next, next Monday." I paused in thought, "Yeah, that's right," I concluded.

"So, if you can, could you meet me here this Saturday? I'm not saying you're behind, I just think, if you'd want, we could progress faster twice a week."

I avoided looking at him, instead focusing my attention out the window behind him. It was so dark already only the lights around the building illuminated the scene. There was snow an inch on the ground and the light shone against the tiny bits that had melted during the day. Some would say it looked like the world had been kissed, grazed, by an angel, but I would say it looked menacing. It made me think of freezing on the side of the road and tripping on the icy paths.

"Saturday works for me. What time were you thinking; same as usual?"

"The library closes at six pm on Saturday, so the usual wouldn't work," he sighed as papers being shifted sounded. I was too busy looking at the claw-like trees that were more grey than brown against the winter, to switch my attention to him, though secretly I wanted to.

The trees looked run down, a shell of their former selves, which in many ways they were. I always felt embarrassed for the trees*, being completely barred for the majority of the year. They were humiliated and at full attention, growing taller each year to make it more dramatic. "Would you rather get together earlier, in the morning at, uh, like ten am, or in the afternoon?"

"I don't have any preference," I told him, "Either's fine."

"Are you a morning person?"

I finally unglued my eyes from the industrialized nature to examine him. "I'm fine in the mornings," and I was, I was used to waking up early to wake up Renee. I was used to cooking breakfast for her, putting the coffee on and retrieving the newspaper. I was Renee's caregiver.

"Me too; so ten this Saturday?"

"Yeah sounds fine." I watched Edward put his coat on, the skin on his belly showing a fraction when he extended to put his arms through. Why did it send sparks through me to see this tiny hidden part of him? Why did I know I was going to obsess about it for the three days it would take me to see him once more?

"So, yeah, have a good night," he stood awkwardly giving me another _look_ that I couldn't interrupt any better than French. His lips curled into a small smile that disappeared only when he turned.

"You too," I mumbled when he was out of range.

--------

The walk home was colder than I'd imagined it would be. It was much colder than the walk over, of course the walk over had contained the last of the day's sun, but that wasn't the point. I didn't want to waste my mother's gas; and by gas I mean gas money, so I'd ignored her offers as the temperature dropped. Soon I wouldn't be able to deny myself the luxury.

I turned my key in the lock and to my surprise found that I wasn't locked. I didn't panic, I wasn't living on the higher crime end of the city, but it was frustrating to know as much as I tried to prevent a break-in my mother _just_ closed the door. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Renee had had her teacher student parent meetings tonight so she'd left after me. I'd locked the door, effectively, for a whole four minutes, one day that would get us into trouble.

"Hello," I called as I hung up my coat and shuffled out of my shoes.

"Hey, Hun," my mother called. She sounded like she was laughing. Confusedly I followed her voice, which was murmuring along, to the kitchen. Our kitchen looked new, it was a light tan, maybe a heavily creamed coffee colour and the cabinets were newly painted a subtle white. The table was semi round, a slight oval made from a beautiful medium colour wood. The four chairs' backs were high and rounded and currently two of them were occupied.

"Bella, hey this is Phil," Renee told me, smiling larger than, I think, I'd ever seen.

"Hello Bella," Phil answered, he turned to see me and I was a little surprised. He was good looking, well for an older man, well older than me, with an athletic build. His hair was a touch lighter than Renee's brown and he was smiling just as largely as her.

He offered his hand and I took the two steps closer and gave him mine. "Nice to meet you."

His shake was firm, powerful and his hands were warm and rough. He let go easily, "Do you want to join us?" He asked, "We're talking about baseball, I'm not sure if that interests you…"

He trailed off, and I took my attention off him to give Renee a look. Her eyes were bright and she looked a little pleadingly from me to the stairs. "Uh, that's okay. I have some, ah, homework that I want to review," that was a lie. Edward and I had finished the last bit of the day's homework.

"Okay," he took rejection very well; I could only assume that was because he wanted my mother alone. It wasn't the first time she'd had men over and I really wasn't uncomfortable, I just wished I'd had some notification.

"I met Phil at the meeting tonight," Renee interrupted my internal thoughts. I walked to the fridge to grab a water bottle, figuring that wouldn't seem too intrusive and I was thirsty.

"So you have a kid?" _That_ made me slightly uncomfortable, I knew it was hypocritical, but if Renee was really into this guy and something did happen, though I knew how unlikely that would be, I didn't exactly want to have to integrate with a new young child.

"Uh no," Phil laughed.

Renee spoke before he had a chance to, "It's a funny story actually," I opened the fridge door, found the water and closed it as she spoke, "Do you remember Jill?" Jill was a little girl in my mom's class that could paint like a pro. She was creative, silly and my absolute favourite. I leaned against the cool door waiting for the rest of the story, "Well Jill is Phil's best friend's kid.*"

That sounded more complicated than it probably had to. "Oh?"

"And he got called in for a business meeting tonight," Phil clarified, "Her mom is visiting relatives in California this week so neither could make the meeting." He laughed like it was to be expected.

I nodded, "That's, uh, unfortunate for Jill."

Renee giggled, actually giggled, "Oh, no, no, no, Phil's great with Jill and I can talk to her parents any time." I walked past the table and lingered on the stairs because even though they seemed eager to tell the story they were really just telling each other. "Actually," my mom's eyes flew to me once more, "She, Jill, I mean, is asleep on my bed, tuckered out. While you're up there can you keep it quiet?"

"Yeah, no problem," I smiled at her childish happiness, it was nice to see. "It was good meeting you," I finished turning to Phil.

"Sure, sure, it was real nice meeting you."

I turned from the two obvious love birds and walked the stairs up to my room.

My room was painted a light lavender with neutral carpet. There were two windows, one that showed the front of the house, and one that viewed the neighbour's house. The only time the sun was present in my room was in the morning which effectively lead to thick black curtains. My bed frame was black wrought iron and a twin*. My room had basically been the same since I was twelve, pink jewelery boxes and forgotten stuffed animals.

My comforter was a light green, which probably didn't go well with the rest of the room but was so soft that it didn't matter at all to me. There was a bookcase in the corner and the first thing I did was to go and grab 'Tuck Everlasting' from the bottom shelf. I had the same volume* Edward had been reading from earlier, it was just coincidence.

I laid it on the bed, took off my jeans and put on black yoga pants before plopping down on my comforter and opening the book. I flipped to the last page first re-reading the last line before starting from the beginning in earnest. I had done the same thing after the last session with Edward, only with 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.'

I knew it was silly and maybe a little creepy, stalker to read whatever he was but it made me curious. What was the appeal in these books to him? Did he like the characters; the plot; everything? Why was he reading books most people forgot as they grew older?

--------

My alarm clock sounded at six thirty am. I awoke with a start, still wearing yesterdays t-shirt and bra. I'd fallen asleep over the blankets with my head literally in a book. I groaned when I stood, my neck was sore. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned.

Without bothering with a shower I put on a new outfit for the day, just boring dark wash jeans and a thick red shirt. I brushed out my hair and put it into a pony tail because I didn't want it to look unwashed, though of course it was just that.

When I got to the kitchen I started making coffee, leaving it running as I scrambled three eggs all the while waiting to hear the tell tale sounds of Renee coming down; hoping I wouldn't have to wake her up. I put two pieces of bread in the toaster and placed the margarine on the table with a butter knife while the eggs sizzled. By the time I returned to the stove and gave them one final stir they were ready. I put them on a separate plate, turned off the element, and set them beside the margarine along with two plates.

I finally heard Renee as I cut a grapefruit in half. She was yawning as she came down the stairs, still wearing her PJs. I put one half of the fruit on her plate and the other on mine. The toast popped as Renee sat down; I grabbed her plate from under her and gave her a slice. "Thanks Hun," she mumbled.

"Mhmm," I returned walking past her to the front door to grab the paper.

I placed it beside her before getting her a cup of coffee "You are a lifesaver," I laughed as she gripped the cup.

I got my own cup, black just like how my mother took hers, along with my slice of toast.

Sitting down, finally, I leafed through the 'Arts and Life' section of the paper Renee had taken out for me. We had our mornings perfectly in sync. "So did you like Phil?" she asked pulling me away from an article on local electric music.

"I think the more important question is did _you_ like Phil?"

I took a sip of coffee as I watched her face, she rolled her shoulders back and her smile was wistful. "More than any other man I've met in the past five years."

"More than Ted?" I asked surprised, Ted and her had dated for a little over a year and had only broken up four months ago. They seemed pretty happy together but selfishly I was glad he ended up not being her one.

"A lot more than Ted; not even in the same league," she snorted.

"Phil seems a bit young don't you think?" I hadn't wanted to bring it up but I needed to shake her confidence, make sure she was sure, if you will.

"I'm not that old, Bella," she frowned, "And it's all in how you act, like me for instance, I act say, maybe, twenty, don't you think?" she didn't wait for me to answer, "While you, dear, no offense, act forty."

I couldn't help it I laughed, "Yeah you do act twenty," I allowed.

"But that's not the point; you liked him? Right? He seemed like a good guy?"

"Yeah he seemed really nice."

"Yeah," she self assured herself. "He's a minor league baseball player, isn't that interesting?" She announced excitedly before mumbling out quickly, "But that also means he's not in town a whole lot."

"So when are you going out?" I asked cutting to the chase.

She practically glowed when she answered, "This Saturday."

"Oh! That reminds me, I'm meeting for another tutor session this Saturday."

"An extra one? You're still struggling?"

"Well Edward, my tutor, said I was keeping up fine, but you know, I have a test coming up." I finished my toast, chewing slowly, "So a few extra sessions would really help."

"Edward, hmm? And he wouldn't just want extra time with you?" She gave me a knowing grin.

"Mom! It's not like that."

"Sure it's not Hun."

I took a long swing of my coffee, savoring the addictive caffeine, "So when do you think Mrs. Nord is coming back?" Renee was substitute teaching right now, she'd started the school year off with the class since Mrs. Nord had taken time off for her pregnancy. Renee had been worried that Mrs. Nord would come back early and take over.

"She's coming back at half year," Renee scowled, "I'm going to miss the kids so much."

"When'd she announce that?" I wondered, surprised she hadn't complained to me earlier.

"Last night principal Kenndy told me before the meetings started. God, I was so pissed. I mean how could he tell me that right before I had to swindle and enchant parents? I thought I was going to cry." She laughed now like the memory wasn't even bitter, "But then I met Phil," she dragged his name like a promise, "And it didn't seem so bad. You know if it works out I might even go to some of his away games, he invited me. I mean already, you know, we hardly know each other…"

"That does seem kind of soon," I relented.

"Now Bella, I know it's hard on you to see me living irresponsibly when you're such a saint, and don't get me wrong, I love you for it, but this guy is different. I really, honestly, whole heartedly think so. He didn't even bat an eye when I told him about you and your dad and you know how men are."

"Men are scum*," I voiced only repeating her mantra back.

"Most men are," she altered, "But we'll see."

I raised an eyebrow, "Just be careful, okay?" I got up to put my dishes in the washer. When I returned I patter her shoulder, "But it's nice to see you happy."

**Notes:**

* Kids and marriage: So Edward's rant was basically him saying he thinks people rush into love and kids and don't respect marriage and its constrictions. If you don't agree with him, that's totally fine, I don't know if I even agree with him. But I thought that was kind of how Edward was, you know, wanting to wait for marriage and true love.

* Un petit ami: Now this is supposed to translate to boyfriend, but I'm not 100% sure that's what the full translation is because none of the, literally, 28 books I have teaching me French had this word translated so I had to use the internet and two websites gave me two different translations. One was boyfriend the other was sweetheart but both of those work… so if you speak French and I'm making a mess, give me a heads up.

But Dude, Edward asking about her personal life so soon? What's he thinking?? I don't know but what I do know is that I wrote out a different start to this chapter where they had not so innocent banter and that seemed too soon, so I re-wrote but I still wanted to show some progress therefore Edward got too personal too soon. That darn kid. ;)

* Embarrassed/humiliated for trees: This is a reference to 'Benny and Joon' from the part where Joon talks about how raisins are humiliated. I didn't want to do the exact same thing but I found it funny, and yeah, I know my sense of humor is in need of a tune up but…

* Phil: I had no idea how Renee actually met Phil; is there an actual documented way they met? I don't know, so I just made it up.

* Room: Yeah that is definitely my room at my parent's house. I'm too lazy to be creative.

* 'Tuck Everlasting:' Volume is: thirtieth printing, 1975. Hardcover with water colour painting on cover.

* Men are scum: Again my sense of humour, I just think it's funny that Renee schools Bella in the way of men by simply telling her that they're scum.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thank you guys so much for the comments they were so kind and amazing. And yes, 'Benny and Joon' is amazing-sauce, I can't deny that. Now here we have a chapter without French. Yay, I love not having to study books to think I know what I'm talking about.**

Chapter Two: part one

"I thought you'd be done by now," I told Edward as I took my seat across from him early Saturday. The library was practically empty this early other than its' workers. I'd seen one person reading the paper when I'd first walked in but they were in a different section than Edward and I. Yet I felt bizarrely claustrophobic so close to him.

"You mean, done reading?"

"Yeah."

"You're a fast reader?" he wondered setting 'Tuck Everlasting' aside.

"Well, I guess? I'm not sure, I've never timed myself."

He chuckled, "You seem like one of those people who skims through most books*, rarely savouring the details."

My mouth opened stupidly and closed just as attractively.

"Ha," he exclaimed, "I've caught you." He smiled good-naturedly.

"So, okay, maybe I scan some of the books I read, what's the difference? I'm an excellent scanner."

He shook his head, "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it; just… uh, don't you feel you miss important details? Like when the conclusion comes, aren't you often taken surprised?"

"Well… I guess," I allowed. "But I like that, I like being confused, I like being shocked; I like knowing I can still re-read a book and get more out of it."

"And see, me, I hate that. I hate not knowing what's happening, I hate having a bombshell land on me when I'm trying to relax into a book. So I read slowly and I learn everything there is to know. And still every time I re-read a novel I get something new, a different experience."

"We're really different," I said looking down at the table; trying to read the chicken scratch that had been ingrained, expanding from cracks in the plastic coated table. I hated having to admit that aloud, it was bad enough knowing we were so different, I didn't need to announce it.

He was beautiful, there was no other word for it, he was effective, helpful, and perfect and all I could do was trail behind him. The one thing I thought we'd had in common was reading, and even in that we were polar opposites.

"Different techniques for the same thing," he interjected.

"How so?" I asked looking up, his eyes caught mine like they often did, like they knew how they were affecting me and mocking me each time.

"Because in both our cases we strive for a reason to re-read the book; to have another reason to open the cover."

"So you are re-reading those books?" I asked hoping he would finally clear up one of the many mysteries.

He smirked, that wonderful smirk that had bewitched me. "Yeah, I'm re-reading them."

"The first time?"

"The first time I've read them over?" he clarified.

"Yeah."

"This is the second time I've read 'Tuck Everlasting' and I'm never done with 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,'" he took a deep breath, his eyes finally flipping away, "Honestly?" He enthused rather passionately.

"Honestly?" I repeated trying to goad him along though I didn't want to have to interrupt his flow. Edward had never spoken so much about himself before and he might never again. This could be the one chance I had to collect information.

"Well, I don't think I'll ever be done with Alice. She's the perfect escape."

"From what?"

"Uh," he combed through his hair, I watched each of his four elegant fingers, engrossed, as they parted his reddish locks. "You know, life, family; my father mostly."

"Your dad?" I knew I was being nosy but, I mean, could you blame me? His tone was full of hidden intrigue and there was no way I was leaving the topic on such a note.

"Well you know dads…"

His eyes peaked up at me, "No, actually I don't." It was my time to feel uncomfortable. "I haven't talked to my dad for more than two minutes in a row since I was eight."

"You're parents are divorced?" I let Edward do it, I let him turn the conversation even though everything in me was willing him to talk at length about _his_ father; _his_ experiences.

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"Since I was six, or was I five?" I asked myself, "Either or, it's been a long time."

"And you haven't seen him since?"

"Oh no, I used to visit him in the summer."

His eyebrows pulled down and he brought his chin higher, so his eyes were straight on. It was the first time I noticed his eyelashes, they were long and dark, maybe longer than mine, the skin over his strong jaw pulled taunt, "Used to?"

"Huh?" His face's minor changes had distracted me.

"You said 'used to visit' you don't any longer?"

"It was hard on my mother, uh, for me to be gone for so long, you know?"

"No, I don't," he whispered. "But I can imagine.*"

"Well it's no big thing; it's just divorce; lots of people get divorced. It's common."

"Common," he repeated, tossing the word off his tongue like it had a bad taste. He rubbed his temples, "And there I go again, getting so off topic. I'm sorry Bella; I'm very good at wasting your time."

"You're not wasting my time. It's nice getting to know you." I flushed pink barely believing I had admitted as much. "Though I'm sorry I rattled on so much about myself."

"Nonsense, has no one ever told you, you're fascinating?"

Was I fascinating like a science experiment gone wrong? Was I like astrophysics* in my complexity? Or maybe I was simply fascinating like a bumble bee; somehow flying against all odds*? I wanted to ask him what he meant but I didn't; I couldn't, I was too embarrassed. I wanted to impress him so badly that I couldn't make myself seem more foolish. I wanted, desperately, to leave at least one positive image of me with him before finals, the last I'd see him, something he could smile about. He had already clutched and torn everything inside me, he would be the thing I remembered most.

--------

Angela came over at seven that night; face bundled under a scarf her grandmother had knitted for her five years ago. She pushed through the door, rushing to shut it. "I'm freezing," she shivered out.

"I've got blankets in the living room?" I offered. She leaned down and took off her boats, grunting as one bright pink sock stayed encased in the boot.

"Fuck socks," she exclaimed, "Why are they so… so sock like*?"

I laughed and took the boot from her hand after she tried unsuccessfully to shove her mitten covered hand in to retrieve the evil sock. "Give it here."

She let me take it scowling before turning and hanging her coat up, stuffing the mitts in the pockets. "I hate winter."

"It is pretty awful, but what can you do?"

"Move." She grumbled. I handed her the sock and watched her struggle to stay balanced while she replaced it.

"What's wrong?" I asked finally worried. Angela never swore that was the first warning bell. Last year she told me winter was her favourite time of season. She loved the ever changing weather, the ups and downs, she was always prepared.

"I don't, urgh, I just," she walked past me, through the kitchen and around into the well worn living room. There were two couches from when my mother and Charlie had lived together. She'd taken them along with me when she left him. They were an ugly orange, green and beige, interwoven together. Renee hated them but she enjoyed not spending a dime more.

The television was one of those old early 2000 modules; a large box that went back farther than you'd expect effectively taking up a good portion of the room. The couches were positioned around, because the Swan women weren't kidding anyone, this room was used for TV watching not for staring at the electric fire that was nuzzled next to the TV set.

Angela landed on the larger couch in a huff bringing a blanket, which had been hanging over the side, down to cover herself.

I sat on the couch's arm next to her feet. "Angela," I spoke sternly, "What's wrong?"

Her head disappeared under the blanket, "Iuhm im ob wid im."

"What?" I reached forward and grabbed the blanket away from her. "You'll have to repeat that I don't speak yawn*."

"I'm in love with him. I love him. God, am I in love with him."

"Who? Erick?" my eyes grew like saucers.

"God, no, no."

"Um, then you've lost me."

"Ben."

"Ben?" I asked, "You mean Ben who used to pull your hair in grade two; that Ben?"

"Yeah, that Ben," her scowl grew.

"I didn't even know you still talked to him. I mean you didn't in elementary school."

"I have calculus and computer science with him," she explained sighing as her scowl loosened.

"And you're in love with him? Since when? Aren't you still dating Erick?" I knew that I'd asked too many questions in one go but they just seemed to come out.

"Yes, I'm still dating Erick. I don't know what to do…"

"Um, well, maybe you should break up with him?" I said it like a question, softly, not like I was accusing her of anything because I wasn't, "Tell him there's someone else; that you haven't cheated on him but that you-," I stopped myself, "You haven't been cheating on him with Ben have you?"

It was so far from Angela behavior that I hadn't let it cross my mind before. "Of course not," she exploded. She took a calming breath, "I'm sorry, no, no I haven't cheated on him. And I _will_ let him down, of course. We never really connected anyway; it most likely won't even change our friendship but…"

"But…"

"Ben doesn't even notice me," she let out in a whoosh.

I blinked. "What?"

"He doesn't notice me," she repeated slowly. "I barely exist. I'm a speck on the windshield. I'm nothing."

"Angela; stop. You are not nothing. Besides you eventually see those little spots on your windshield and they annoy you until something has to be done about them."

"I need chocolate."

I got up without a word, went to the kitchen, and grabbed the emergency stash of Ben and Jerry's half fudge half cookie dough ice cream* and two spoons. When I returned Angela was sitting up, the blanket still around her and the television turned on to the woman's network. A romantic comedy, at the very least twenty minutes in, was playing quietly.

I sat beside her, popped the lid and tossed it onto the coffee table. She grabbed a spoon before I could offer it.

"Thank-you," she mumbled around a mouth of ice cream. She swallowed, "I've just let it build for too long. I'm sorry I just, went all crazy on you. I'm not usually so… so you know crazy."

I laughed "I wish you'd told me sooner, we could have discussed techniques or something."

She laughed for the first time that night. "I know you had Alice issues. I really didn't want to be the one who added to the load. And didn't you say something about your mom's new younger beau?" she put her hand over her mouth in surprise. "Sorry is she home? I'm not calling her old."

"It's their first date tonight," I explained.

"Ah. See, here I am being all me, me when you're worrying about Mr. Impracticality."

I shook my head in amusement. "No, he's cool, really. And Alice is working everything out slowly. Jasper keeps trying to get her to move in with him and she's _just_ about convinced. So everything is working out, I think."

"Uh-huh." She raised an eyebrow, "Then why do you need the addictive, beautiful chocolate too?"

I turned red; I was caught for the second time that day. "So maybe you aren't the only one living in Not Noticed Town."

"Who?" she asked curiously, "Sorry, don't tell me if you don't want to." There, that sounded like Angela.

"No it's just, I don't know. Is it really cliché to say each time I see my tutor I think he's more and more… interesting? I can't think of the right word. Like, uh, I don't know…"

She sighed and gave me a hug, leaving the spoon in her mouth. I hugged back glad that my spoon was sitting in the bucket so it wouldn't be dripping all over me.

"Not Noticed Town: population two," she whispered in my ear before leaning back and taking a huge chuck of the chocolate. "Do you need to vent?" She asked timidly, careful not to overstep any bounds.

"There's nothing to say really. Just… I need to get him out of my head," I scanned the room wondering what would be the best distraction, "Wanna watch 'The Notebook?'" I asked.

"Yes please, all I need is You, Ryan, romance, chocolate and a box of tissues."

I laughed, "Do you really need the tissues?" she nodded and I got up, "You put the movie in and I'll grab them. Did you want popcorn?"

"Do you even need to ask?" I got off the arm as she started riffling through the drawers in the coffee table.

--------

The movie's end credits started to roll; I took a look at the time wondering how long Renee would be. She didn't have class in the morning but I was still expecting her home. It was weird to think that she might decide to stay the night with Phil; at his house.

"So what are you going to do about Ben?" I finally asked.

"Well first I'm going to talk to Erick, then after I smooth that over, I don't know; nothing."

"Nothing? You love Ben but nothing?"

"Bella, it's not like I don't want to but, it's me, let's not fool ourselves. I really, really, really like him but… I can handle being his friend. I'd rather that than nothing."

"Nothing…" It sounded so empty to me; maybe it was because it sent reverberations through my chest.

"What about you?" she wondered cutting my thoughts off, "your tutor…"

"Nothing," I told her my voice sounding unnatural to my ears, "It's nothing."

**Notes:**

* Skimming books: I don't generally do this but I know lots of people who do. I know real Bella is probably more like this stories Edward in how she reads but I wanted to show some character development.

* Edward can't imagine: I just thought it was cute that he can't imagine how hard it is to be without Bella for a couple months. I'm a sucker; what can I say?

* Astrophysics: This is in reference to the scrapped beginning to last chapter. I tried to write at a ridiculous time so when I re-read it I was like 'why am I talking about astrophysics and black holes?' But regardless I wanted a reminder.

* Bumble Bees: Someone told me they shouldn't, aerodynamically, be able to fly. I have no idea if this is true and it's too cold to find a bumble bee out here to check but that's what Bella's thoughts are referring to.

*Socks: Dude, that boot sock thing is so annoying. I know it shouldn't be but when it's freezing and that happens I never notice 'till I put my bare foot on the cold tile, or step in the snow that came off my boot and it sucks. I actually have a deep and mutual love of socks just not when they don't stay on. : (

* Yawn speak: Only very special people can understand yawn speak. I, on the other hand, am not one of these people.

* Ben and Jerry's half fudge, half cookie dough ice cream: I'm drooling thinking about this. It's like a health freak out in a small reseal-able container.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I actually think I enjoy writing the secondary character's parts more than anything else. I am trying to form a balance and hopefully it doesn't seem odd but I like the idea of Edward being in each chapter even if his part is small.**

**Thanks for reading ;) Happy Easter, and I heard on the radio the other day that April 13****th,**** where I live, has been officially named 'Corner Gas' day. So happy 'Corner Gas' day! If you don't know what that is, it's a Canadian TV show with Brent Butt I have no idea if it plays in America or anywhere else for that matter.**

Chapter Two: part two

"I can't believe you're going out late on a school night," I more or less muttered toward Renee as she scurried about in her black bra and skirt slip holding up random dresses to her chest in the floor length mirror.

"Do you think the red is better?" She questioned turning to show it off. I lifted my head from my position, lying on her bed for a better look.

"Its fine," I returned letting my head loll back.

"Don't sound too excited now Bella."

I rolled my eyes. Instead of looking at her I twisted so I was looking beside me at the mirror on her dresser. Renee had always had a thing for Victorian styled furniture and it sure showed in her bedroom. Everything had that curvy ornate look. Everything styled so you could barely imagine comfort. Her walls were done in a sage while the bedside tables and dresser were white. Her curtains were a transparent sheered white, as well, making her room feel like a cloud. The only thing that gave the room some weight was her king size bed. The headboard was made out metal, also painted white, but it stood out.

"It's just weird. This is your fourth date, you know. It's only Wednesday.*"

"Well I happen to really like him. I told you that," she sounded only mildly frustrated.

She shimmied into the red dress, fluffing her expertly curled hair when it came free. Renee had always been good at getting ready, at making herself look presentable and, well for lack of a better word, good. The genes had not passed on, I never could be bothered. I'd never date, not like her. I knew I'd never be the person who worried about dresses, shoes and hair; it wasn't me and I was jealous of her because of it.

"And I'm glad you're happy, I'm still really glad," I tossed my legs over the bed and stood, walking to the dresser, or more specifically to her jewelery box. "But four dates in five days is crazy."

"I really, really like him Bella. Don't smother this feeling so soon, please," she exclaimed restlessly.

I picked out a beautiful black beaded necklace and held it up for her to approve. "It's just… five in four days is a lot."

"I love that one too," she spoke softly eyeing the jewelery, "And to be fair on Sunday I just helped him pick out some food at the grocery store. It wasn't like a big romantic thing."

"And that kinda makes it weirder."

"How does it do that?" She lifted her hair and I strung the necklace around and did the clasp.

"It's like you're already married, helping to feed him and everything. Did you ever do that with Ted?"

"Ted ate pork and beans every night. I would have had to physically alter his brain patterns if I wanted him to eat different."

"And you want to change Phil's eating habits?" I asked sitting down at the edge of the bed. Renee twirled in the mirror, her face looking concerned as she did so.

"Are you sure about this dress?"

"Mom, you look beautiful, really." She did, Renee had always been gorgeous. Age had done nothing to her other than force her to have a 'reason' to get her hair coloured. She claimed the grays were coming in but I hadn't seen even one.

"Thanks," she turned giving me a kind smile, "And Phil asked me to help him eat healthier because of his baseball and all that. You know, a diet's really important when you play a sport for a living."

I sighed. "Just don't rush into anything."

"We're not rushing; we're just enjoying each other. And didn't you tell me you liked him?"

"Yeah, Phil seems great," I'd talked to him a lot actually and I did think he was an awesome guy, he was funny and made my mother laugh, hell he even made me laugh. He had come over for dinner Tuesday night and it didn't seem like he was going out of his way to impress me, he just seemed comfortable.

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

"Okay," I relented.

"Are you wearing that?" She asked me giving me a strange up and down.

"I'm just going to the library," I pointed out.

"Yeah but your jeans have holes in the knees."

I laughed. "And what would you prefer I wear?"

"Remember that blue blouse I bought you last Christmas? And that Black pencil skirt*, you know the one with the buttons?"

"Mom, what would Edward think? That I'm trying to impress him?"

"Well maybe it wouldn't be so bad to impress a boy. You said he was young, right? Near your age. Can it be so hard to play up your femininity?"

"Hello, mom, It's me; your daughter, Bella."

"Fine, make excuses but the truth of the matter is if you don't care enough to even dress up then the guys, they just think you don't care*."

"That's so cliché."

"Cliché or not, they are words of wisdom." She turned from me to grab her makeup. "You think red lips would be too much?"

"Yeah, with the red dress; you don't want to be too matchy-matchy, right?"

"You're right."

She applied a simple lip-gloss before adding a touch of mascara.

"Do I want more?"

"No, you're perfect."

She smiled. "Phil's going to be here in ten minutes, are you sure you don't want to change?" Phil was dropping me off at the library before they went off to have supper.

"I don't think so…" I trailed off wondering if maybe Renee was right, I did after all want to impress Edward.

"Won't you try it, just for one night? If you hate it you don't ever have to do it again," her eyes were pleading before she turned to rifle through her sock drawer. "I need stockings, don't you think?"

"You do; it's freezing."

"So are you gonna try it?"

"For you mom, anything." She rolled her eyes playfully.

"Thank you Hun."

I left the room and went into my own. My 'nice' clothes were all hung up in the back of my closet. It had been a long time since I had worn any of them. I pulled each hunger carefully, looking for the ones my mom had suggested, I might as well take her advice straight to the point.

Once the clothes were on I felt different, I looked different. I looked older and my eyes were brighter, I smiled at myself in the mirror twisting around trying to mimic Renee. Maybe I could pull this off. I walked across the hall.

Renee was putting black chandelier earrings in, staring intently into the mirror. I leaned against the frame watching her reflection. Because of that I realized the exact second she noticed me. Her eyes refocused on my reflection and she spun quickly. "Oh Bella, you look stunning."

I blushed. "Uh, thanks."

"Come here." I walked forward tripping slightly on the edge of the bed, she laughed. "Look up." I did what she asked and she coated my lower lashes with mascara. "Now straight ahead." She repeated her motions on the upper lashes. "Okay, wow," her words blew out. "What your father would say if he could see you now…"

"Oh mom," I rolled my eyes, "Do I really look so dressy? Edward's going to think I'm in love with him," I chuckled.

As I'd spoken Renee had begun rifling through her drawers again. She eventually pulled out a Polaroid camera. Fiddling with it, she spoke, "No, it's not like that. You just look… just look beautiful." She turned to admire me again. "Stand back."

I stepped back, twisting my head to pay attention to where I was going. I stopped when I hit the floor length mirror. Renee held up the camera. "Now smile." She laughed and I couldn't help it, I felt so light; I smiled and she snapped the picture.

--------

I took off my coat, mittens and scarf right after I walked in the front doors of the library. I didn't want to have to undress in front of Edward like I'd had to before; it had become a sort of tradition actually.

Every time, other then when I'd beat Edward to the library, he'd been reading or, at least, preoccupied with a book when I approached but this time he was watching me as I walked over. I was hyper aware of how his eyes seemed to take me in, how his crooked smile appeared, how even his posture shifted.

"Hello," I said, anticlimactic as I sat.

"Uh, hi," he practically stuttered, it was cute; it was endearing and it made me feel awkward.

"My mom, ah, wanted me to stop dressing like a boy," I laughed, "She said I just had to try it once," I blushed and looked down. I worried that I'd upset him, he remained so quiet, I glanced up and he seemed too real, too interested in me. I could feel myself blushing further. "It's uncomfortable." I shrugged.

Again he didn't say anything; I bit my lip looking around letting my eyes fall on the book he'd brought today. "'Marry Poppins'*?"

"Uh, yeah," his voice was screaming insecurities.

"Let me think," I brought my eyes up and he caught them as he always seemed to, "'"_You have it for tonight darling," whispered Jane, and she tucked him in just as Mary Poppins used to do…_'"

"You're very strange," he announced his eyes speaking louder than his words. I was drowning. I tucked my chin and broke our connection. "Not in a bad way," he rushed. "Just, I've never met anyone like you." I pulled out my notebook staring at the work I'd done, "And you should thank your mom for me, you look," he hesitated, "You look breathtaking Bella."

--------

Edward and I finished up and I got up to leave, I put on my coat, scarf and hat, I'd carried it with me instead of wearing it before because, I guess, I had turned into my mother for a few seconds; worried about my hair. I put on my gloves and hugged my books to my chest. Usually Edward was gone by the time I left but this time he lingered. He had put on a gray coat and a pair of tan gloves but he didn't move to leave.

"You look like you're bundled up for a long walk."

"Fifteen minutes," I shrugged. Renee and Phil had dropped me off, Phil had said they could come and pick me up if I called but I assured them I'd be fine. I didn't want to interrupt them in the middle of their night out.

Edward looked surprised. "You're walking home?" He actually sounded annoyed, though I had no idea why.

"Sure."

"No," simple and blunt.

"Huh?"

"No, I'll drive you."

I shook my head; I didn't want to be cumbersome. "That's fine, it's really close, don't worry."

"No," he stressed the word. "I'll drive you. It's cold, it's dark and it's dangerous."

I laughed, "Dangerous," I repeated in a mocking tone.

He didn't seem to find it funny, "Bella, please, let me drive you home; I don't want to worry about you."

He'd purposely turned the logic on me, if it was possibly harmful to me, I was fine with it, but at the slightest hint that Edward had a problem I caved. I didn't want to make him worry; it was unnecessary. "Fine."

"Thank-you." Like there was a reason for _him_ to thank me.

We walked out together and it was bizarre, it was… off-putting, we weren't the people we were portraying, a couple out for a night. I hated that I wanted us to be that, why couldn't I be satisfied with the time I got?

He opened a door for me on a car that appeared expensive even in the dark. I got in and he closed it behind me. It didn't feel weird to accept a ride, Edward wasn't a stranger but that didn't make my heart stop beating like it was trying to win a competition.

The cars interior with a soft gray and I would bet my life that it was leather. The car was outlandishly clean for a young man; I'd never seen a car so hygienic; he could probably eat off the seats. Over the driver's side on the visor was a black CD holder and I tried unsuccessfully to read the titles.

He got in and turned on the engine causing the light, I'd been examining his car in, to shut off. "Um I'm just left off this road," I pointed and he looked.

The street lights were on illuminating the light snow that was falling. No one else was out; we didn't pass any cars, the only appearance of life were the lights on in the houses we passed and the smoke curling out at the tops of the houses.

The engine purred, literally, it was a soft and attractive sound. The car Renee and I shared sounded like a dying animal; I wasn't used to these luxuries. "Take a right up here." He turned on cue, "So, uh, first time through 'Marry Poppkins'?" I asked desperate to make some conversation.

He laughed, "Fourth."

"So you like it a lot then?"

"It's… uh, I don't know, special. Do I keep going straight here?"

"Yeah, it's straight for a while."

"It's just one of those books… have you read it before; or just the last line?" He was making a joke but it was too forced to get a laugh. The atmosphere was jilted; agonizing me.

"I've read it."

"What did you think?"

"It's… like a part of my childhood."

"Exactly," Edward's voice relaxed.

"Do you miss it?" I didn't mean to push his personal space so far in one night but, like before, like every time, I couldn't seem to help it.

"Miss what?"

"Right," I nudged him so he would know I was giving him directions. Even through my thick clothes I felt electricity in his touch, "And I mean your childhood."

"Oh," his guards were falling back into place. "Uh, well there isn't a lot to miss."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, hmm, how do I explain… you remember going to the park, going to kindergarten, having your friends over for birthday parties, maybe even the whole class?"

I paused in thought as we went by an elementary school. Of course I'd gone to the park multitudes of times, I'd gone with my parents, with friends, had recess there but I couldn't think of a specific time. Even kindergarten seemed imaginary; I couldn't even tell you who my teacher was. "Yeah, kind of, it's blurring but some of that."

"I don't. It wasn't ever like that with my family."

"What was it like?" I had been watching the road, being careful to lead him the right way but now I turned to give him a glance, it was too dark to see him so I looked back out.

"It was lonely, I mean I had my brother and my mom, she never had to work but she liked to sometimes. She had a small business she ran out of the house. It seems like we spent most of the time inside or around the property."

"Left," I whispered.

"But I'm not trying to complain. I did enjoy that time, I mean, even though I grew up fast."

"Another Left," I whispered again.

"It just seemed like I didn't have a childhood, does that make sense or…"

"No, it does, that's… depressing." I shivered in my coat, "The house with the outside lights on."

He pulled up as he replied, "I'm sorry I'm not exactly an 'up' guy*," he chuckled.

"No, I like that you're not."

I opened the door, "Why?" he asked before I could speak again.

"Because it's real. So many people pretend everything's fine, or was fine, and usually it's not. I just, I like that about you."

"Thanks," he seemed to struggle with the word.

"Thanks for the ride home Edward, I really appreciate it."

"Uh, no problem."

I shut the door and walked away from him, wondering why everything he said made me want to know more. It seemed every mystery I tried to solve, as small as they might seem to an average person, only opened up lost cases.

I wanted to be the person who _found_ Edward but I didn't feel capable. Maybe it was hopeless.

**Notes:**

* Wednesday: I have learned my lesson I am really going to try to get the dates right unlike in past stories where I just ended up getting very, very confused. So tutor sessions are Wednesday and Saturday; right now anyway.

* Pencil Skirts: Pencil skirts are typically knee-length. They are close fitting and look kick ass. I love them. I wear them like they are going out of style, which you could argue they are or have been for a while.

* The guys think you don't care if you don't dress nice: Heck if I know if this is true but I think Renee uses it as an excuse to spend too much money on clothing.

* 'Mary Poppins': Edward is reading the revised edition that was printed in 1981.

* An _up _guy: This is a reference to a New Order song called Bizarre Love Triangle. In the video there is a black and white scene where a woman (Jodi Long) sternly says "I don't believe in reincarnation because I refuse to come back as a bug or as a rabbit" A man (E. Max) replies "You know you're a real _up_ person."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Thanks so much for reviewing and reading. I'm having so much fun writing this story and I'm so happy to see some people liking it. That's an awesome feeling. Everything else I've written, it seems, I have to force out while this story just seems to flow out of my fingers and I start rambling on and on; I had to edit down this chapter a lot.**

Chapter Two: part three

"I can't believe he convinced me to do this," Alice commented as she folded her green origami paper in half; the first fold on the first page.

"What? That he convinced you to live with him?" I asked slightly perplexed, Jasper and Alice were perfect together, even the first time I'd met him I'd saw the inexplicable connection.

"Yes," she exclaimed as I grabbed a blue paper from the stack Alice had brought over, "He says I'll be happier with him-"

I cut her off, "You will be."

"That's not the point."

"Okay then Alice, what is the point?"

Her head thrust up from her project, the short black hair she'd chopped only a year previously hung beautifully around her, emphasizing her light blue eyes. She looked like a parian doll*, beautiful angles and sparkling eyes; healthy and happy. "The point is," she pushed, "That if I live with him I won't be contributing enough."

I let the piece of paper I'd been holding slip from my fingers, tapping the kitchen table, "I don't understand."

"Bella," her cheeks flushed as she lashed out in embarrassment, "He's Jasper." Yet that explained nothing, "He's not going to let me take care of myself, he's going to force me to quit my job, go back to school and live off him."

"And this sounds terrible…"

She picked up the paper I'd dropped, "Do you even know how to fold a paper crane?" She asked ignoring my jibe for the moment.

"I do actually," I rolled my eyes as she handed the paper back to me.

"Then can we talk, while we work, if you insist?"

"Fine," I let my eyes wander back to the paper as I worked on folding it listening as Alice's nails clicked against the table. "You don't want to go back to school?" I guessed.

"No, that's not it. You're seeing it like him."

"So tell me how _you_ see it."

"I'll be taking advantage of him, living off him as he works like mad trying to support me, I don't need that and I don't want that."

"It's only taking advantage if the other person doesn't really want it," I stated.

"Isabella," she breathed and the sound of my full name made me feel uncomfortable, "You're mother has taught you terribly."

"Don't let her hear that."

"Is she even home?"

"Asleep."

"It's five," Alice exclaimed in a whisper.

I laughed, "You won't wake her she sleeps like the dead."

"Fine, it's five," she repeated in a steady voice.

"She was out 'till three am with Phil."

"What!? Didn't she work this morning?"

"Of course," I finished the crane and grabbed a purple paper, "But it's Renee and she's so sweet on him* that she barely breathes when he's not around."

"That's sorta adorable."

I snorted, "Not that I don't appreciate you're attempt at distracting me but I would really like to get back to your issue."

"It's not an issue."

"Okay then why are you making these cranes?"

"Okay, fine its a little issue, it's just, advantages can be taken regardless if the other person allows them to or not. I don't want to wake up two months into our new living situation and realize he secretly wants me out."

"I really doubt that'll happen."

"Yeah, well that's the point, 'you really doubt it' but you can't say it won't happen."

"Alice, Jasper is completely here for you, what other boy would chase your crazy ex away?"

"I see what you mean but it doesn't change the fact that he wants more for me."

"Oh no, God forbid he wants more for you." I tossed another crane into the small pile giving Alice a once over as I did so. She was extremely focused on folding the paper just right and I had to smile, "Don't you want more for him?"

"Of course I do, okay let me put it this way; I don't want to ruin his life by making him feel he has to give up his ambitions to push me further. Does that make sense?"

I sighed, "I can't say for certain, it does, because I've never been there but none of that has happened yet. You're working now*, you're contributing, and he can't make you quit. Maybe you should hold off on worrying for a while."

"I can't, that's like me telling you to stop freaking out, though you'd never admit it, about this Phil character. It's hard, we protect these people in our lives and we want what's best. We've both been there, you know, our parents are our children and because of those mixed up role reversals our future relationships become muddled up."

"So maybe Jasper is getting the best out of your deal."

"I hope he is; it's too late to change his plans."

"I think it's much better for you to stay with someone stable. Jasper is secure, you need that, maybe it'll help your mixed up relationship phobia that you seem to think you have."

She laughed, "I agreed, I'm moving in with him but that doesn't mean I don't doubt myself."

"Just be sure Jasper understands you don't doubt him."

"That's what I'm trying to do now." Her hand came up and stilled on mine before I could finish folding the purple crane, I'd been working slowly thinking through my words. I looked up as my fingers stilled. "With this." Her hands came up as she emphasized the mess of paper on the table, the folded cranes juxtaposed with the stacks of pre-organized paper.

"So I guessed right, good to know I'm not completely oblivious. Tell me Alice, why on Earth, are you revisiting origami." Alice hadn't really stopped being into origami but she'd certainly let her obsession dwindle.

The paper was expensive so for the past six years she's mostly used recycled computer paper or whatever other material she could press and contort. Even now, a bracelet made of Starburst wrappers* encircled her wrist; the jagged 90 degree angles contrasting her soft features.

"I can't believe you haven't heard about the thousand crane myth."

"I've heard something about a thousand cranes but I didn't realize it was shrouded in mystery."

"So maybe myth isn't the right word," her eyebrows lowered like she wasn't up for my stupid repartee. "But folding a thousand cranes in supposed to be a 'labor of love.' It's a great present for friends and family, and I know I'm not folding all of them myself and that I won't finish this by my move in but it's the thought that counts.*"

"I'm sure Jasper will appreciate all the effort it took."

"Oh I know he will," she smiled letting her eyes trail to the clock on the microwave. She turned back, "Do you think eight is too late? If you have homework, or whatever, I can catch the bus."

I rolled my eyes. Jasper had dropped her at my high school before his shift and was planning on picking her up at my house while he finished. "I've missed you Alice, we barely see each other, and nothing is going undone so stop worrying."

"Okay," she stood up and turned on the radio that was half hidden behind the toaster, an older familiar song came on and she reset the volume so it played only in the background.

"So I was thinking pizza? What do you think?"

"Yeah cheese would be great." She sat down just as the phone rang. I twisted in my chair and reached for it. The telephone port was attached to the wall slightly behind me.

"Excuse me," I mumbled at Alice as I hit the 'talk' button. "Swan residence, Bella speaking," if there was one thing Renee had taught me, it was polite phone manners.

"Er, hi Bella, it's Edward Cullen," He hadn't needed to inform me who I was, my heart sped up as my face went red. Alice raised an eyebrow in interest and I stood up and turned my back to her so I could have the illusion of privacy.

"Hi."

"Um, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything," My cheeks actually hurt I was smiling so large, I was thankful that Alice couldn't watch me. Why did he get these reactions out of me?

"Oh, no, no, don't worry about it. What can I do you for?"

"I was thinking, since last Wednesday's session, about you," I bit my cheek not sure how to feel about that, "about how you've been walking to the library." Well that was kind of unusual.

"Oh?" I hedged.

"Yes, well, like I said before, it's not entirely safe for you to be walking around after dark."

"You did say that," I was only slightly playing with him, unsure where he was leading.

"Uh, I was thinking; only if you'd prefer and if you're comfortable with it, we could just study at your house. Or if you'd rather we stayed at the library I could pick you up and drive you home; it's just I'd really rather you didn't walk." His words sounded rushed and urgent, yet remarkably rehearsed*.

"Yeah sure."

"To which?" his voice turned from slightly confident to utterly confused.

"You can just come over, it that works with you, it's fairly quiet over here; you remember where I live, right?"

"Yes," Edward sounded relieved which was strange, it sounded like he'd spent much too long worrying about this conversation, I felt bad that I'd made him feel I was an aggressive person. Honestly, I didn't care where we studied as long as it _was_ we.

"So Saturday morning?"

"Sure. I'll see you then." There was a sudden uncomfortable silence in which I could hear his breathing before he rushed, "bye."

"Bye," he hung up first and by the time I turned back to Alice my expression was puzzled.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"My tutor." She turned back down to her crane like this wasn't exciting news which I suppose it wasn't. "Do I seem really pushy?" I wondered.

"Why?" She returned her gaze to me and it was her turn to look thrown.

"Just, do I?"

She snorted, "You're probably the most passive person I know."

I set the phone on the table beside the finished cranes as I slumped back down into the kitchen chair. Blinking I muttered, "I'm starting to worry about the impression I give people."

Alice reached over me, "Do you care where we order pizza from?"

I shook my head, "Wherever."

"Have you ever eaten at that place on the corner of ninth? It's my favorite?"

My head rolled forward, "Yeah sounds good."

Before she pressed any buttons she gave me a once over, "I don't know why you'd suddenly worried about how other people perceive you but I'm sure your tutor's just being professional." Her shoulders raised and lowered quickly, "So… an extra large cheese?"

--------

Jasper arrived exactly four minutes after eight wearing black slacks and a long tan coat. I'd never known exactly where he worked other than at a desk but his clothes were always impeccable. When I'd asked, that first time we'd met, he'd said it was boring but paid well. Jasper was a man of little words but that seemed to make him and Alice fit all the better. She filled his silence and he liked her voice, or something along those lines.

It wasn't like he didn't tell her everything he felt important and it wasn't like she didn't listen when he did want to talk; the fact was they were just comfortable in how each functioned and it was something special to watch.

He rang the bell and I got up and opened it, just letting it fall back without much consideration. He smiled at me, nodding as he did, which was pretty standard for him.

"Hey," I replied, "Alice is in the kitchen, we have an extra slice of cheese pizza if you're interested."

He closed the door behind him and went about unlacing his shoes, "Thanks."

I went back to the kitchen knowing he'd follow at his own pace to find Alice storing the paper in her bag; she'd had the bag for at least four years, a gift from the mother she didn't see. It was chocolate brown leather that was one large open sack with a long shoulder strap. It doesn't sound fashionable but it was.

She was just closing the zip lock bag containing the finished cranes when Jasper came up behind her. He laid his head against her shoulder, which was absurd looking given the fact that he was much taller than her and kissed her neck. She smiled, turning just slightly to kiss him on the mouth. It was simple, chaste and pulled apart quicker than a made for Disney kiss.

Alice and Jasper weren't public people; the affection they'd just shown was one short kiss more than I'd ever seen from them. They didn't feel they had to show off or prove anything they just were.

"Missed you," he murmured moving away from her and toward the pizza box that was still open on the counter.

He picked up the last piece and bit down, "How was work?" Alice asked.

"Tedious," he said after a shallow.

"Bella and I got a lot done, I can't wait to show you," Alice laughed and Jasper leaned against the counter.

"Bella," A new voice yawned. I turned, my mother stood in her robe looking like a sleep institute patient.

"Sorry did we wake you?" Alice asked, her apprehension already exploding.

"Oh no, don't worry dear, my stomach did in fact."

"Do you want me to make you something?" I asked.

"I'm just going to grab some cereal, don't mind me."

She shuffled into the kitchen and went about making her 'meal' and I allowed her because, frankly, I was too tired to fix her anything more substantial.

"We should probably get going, actually," Alice said, throwing her bag on her shoulder. Jasper followed her as she walked to the foyer and I, like the good host I was, followed after.

"Thanks for having me Bella;" she said giving me a hug before she shrugged into her black button up coat, "I had a really good time." As she spoke Jasper tied up his shoes, shiny black ones that only added to that fancy look his other clothes already portrayed. "We should do this again, maybe watch a movie. I would really like your help on the cranes if you have the time."

"Yeah, sure, of course."

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it."

Jasper opened the door without a word and Alice trailed out in front of him, "I'll call you." She waved as Jasper turned to give me a nod goodbye. Some people would say he was too quite or maybe think that he didn't like them just because he was… different, yeah I suppose that's the word, but the truth was he didn't talk unless he felt he had something to add. He closed the door, careful of his fingers and I watched them walk to his car through the open blind slates from the window.

I watched them until the car was out of my sight and sighed wondering if I would ever find such happiness in another.

--------

Renee had gone dancing with Phil Friday night and had stayed up until six am which would generally, as a rule, have annoyed me and my parental tendencies but not today. Today I figured Edward coming over would be irregular enough without my mother popping her head in and offering clothing discrepancies.

That didn't stop me from following her old advice. The sun wasn't even up as I flipped to the back of my closet and chose a long white halter top. It wasn't too dressy but it was nice, it was almost something I would normally wear, almost. I put on dark wash jeans that didn't have holes anywhere and examined the outfit together in the mirror; it was nice, nothing too intense.

The house was clean but that didn't stop me from worrying about what Edward would think when he came in so I spent the rest of the morning, before he arrived, pacing back and forth from the window by the front door and the kitchen table looking for crumbs.

I was sitting at the table focusing on my bare toes when the doorbell rang. I'd sat down minutes before he was expected to arrive to try and ease the nerves, though I really had absolutely no reason to feel so sensitive. I went to answer the door and the wind blew in with his scent. I had to recoil, it was too nice. He smiled at me and my insides liquefied.

"Hello," Edward said holding a few books at his side.

"Come in," I offered. I leaned on the wall opposite him as he closed the door and slipped his shoes off, they were simple black and white sneakers, kind of like those grandpa shoes that came into fashion five years back. His socks were white and thick and for some reason they were so cute that I had to look away. "Um, I hope the kitchen table's okay."

"Yeah, it's fine."

I sat down without preamble; he took off his coat and sat in the chair beside me. Why did he always do that when I sat down first? "So are you ready for that test?" He asked and I had to laugh, what a way to start the morning.

"Not even a little bit."

--------

"Ca leur plait beaucoup," Edward said waiting for me to translate. He'd been throwing short sentences at me for the past ten minutes and I was doing a surprisingly good job at converting them.

"It pleases them very much?"

"Right, how about 'L'eau est trop froide'?"

"Uh, the water is cold?"

"Almost," he smiled, "The water is _too_ cold."

"Ah," I frowned.

"Don't worry; I think you're very prepared."

"You think?" I bit my lip as the sun continued to light half of Edward's face. Before we'd started throwing sentences back and forth I'd been avoiding truly looking at him. Now it was hard to do; when you speak directly to a person you need some eye contact.

The sun made the other half of his face fall into darkness, one eye caught the light and radiated iridescently. Half his hair picking up the light like a person wearing black in the summer, it was almost shiny enough to cause a bronze reflection to hit the opposite wall. His hair looked so soft that it was practically calling to me, like a bunny rabbit, you just wanted to know, really know, how soft it was.

I didn't move of course, I couldn't.

"I think you are extremely ready for this test. Plus it'll be a lot easier to study French after we get your test back." I smiled half-heartedly more at the fact he'd said 'we' than the idea of getting a test back and yawned.

"Thank you for coming over."

"Thank you for having me."

"I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to see what you're reading." I hadn't meant to say this exactly but I'd been thinking it for the hour and my brain was too strained to hold back such words.

He chuckled, "I'm re-reading 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' again."

"So soon?"

He shrugged his shoulders as he stood. I mimicked him as he walked back to the door. He effortlessly handled his books while getting his arms through his jacket without having to set anything down. "What can I say, I'm predictable."

I didn't think this was true in any way but this time I found the ability to hold my words.

"What about you Bella, what are you reading?"

I blushed; I didn't like it when he asked me questions. I always felt like I was under trial; what if he didn't like my preferences. Why did I care? "Ur, 'Great Expectations.'"

"Hmm," he mused and I could only stand there and wonder what he was thinking as he pried the door back. The light spilled into the small foyer.

I handed him a twenty before I could forget, always better to pay before he distracted me.

"Well, uh, I guess I'll see you Wednesday?"

"Of course." He turned to leave and I couldn't help feeling abandoned. I closed the door and walked back to the kitchen and sat in the chair he'd left, letting my head rest on the placement as I breathed deeply, wondering in a detached way, why every time he left me I felt worse and worse.

**Notes:**

* Parian doll: A doll made from Germany, I think they are also called Dresden dolls.

* Sweet on him: I'm so excited I finally got a chance to use this phrase. It makes me warm & fuzzy inside just hearing it.

* Alice works: Alice is a waitress.

* Starburst bracelets: I'm not sure about anyone else but these were absurdly popular at the schools I attended. They are basically the individual wrappers folded in a specific way and linked together. You can also make these bracelets out of jolly rancher wrappers.

* Origami: Oh Origami how I spent so many years folding bits of paper together to form other things… Well I spent a bit of time brainstorming what Alice and Bella would be doing while they spoke and although sewing, eating and cross stitching were all nice and good I though origami made actual sense. I knew a lot of people who folded origami, particularly in elementary school, so I thought it'd be fun to incorporate.

The 1000 crane story is interesting to me. There are many references to marriage and long relationships with the cranes so I felt it worked for Alice and Jasper.

* Phone rehearsal: Yeah, well I'm embarrassing, just, you know, on principal and I think it's weird to talk to a phone. Yeah I know it's talking on the phone but in my head I think I'm talking to _the_ phone and I always feel like a dolt, talking to an inanimate object and all that. So generally, if I have to call someone I don't know, or don't know very well, I write out the 'conversation' on a piece of paper. So Edward was doing this and that was why he sounded confused when Bella agrees; he was expecting her to give him a more expanded answer.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I've been sort of sick lately. Just headaches, ear and throat aches; really all aches; if I fall into update hell it's probably because I've turned all 'woe is me'. Anyway thanks for commenting, reading & alerting; all that good stuff. I love hearing feedback. :D**

""Tell me what you read and I'll tell you who you are" is true enough but I'd know you better if you told me what you reread."  
-Rancois Muriac

Chapter Three: part one

As I lay in bed that Saturday night, listening to Renee's soft snores with my eyes in 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,' I started feeling guilty. So yes I had lied to Edward, sort of. I wasn't reading 'Great Expectations' at the moment but I didn't think he'd find it charming that I was book stalking him. Plus before I'd met him I _had_ been reading 'Great Expectations' and since there was still a chapter left I was technically, kind of, still reading it.

It wasn't a crime, I hadn't stolen or shot anything; I'd just lied, kind of. I'd just said something that wasn't quite true. Yet somehow I hadn't been able to read past the second chapter, 'the pool of tears'. I couldn't concentrate, not an inch, not a lick; not at all.

There was no reason I should feel like this but that didn't change the fact that I did. With pity on my soul I shut the small book and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. I shut the light beside my bed off and closed my eyes, praying to find solace in the dark, in the quiet; in-between my consciousness.

--------

"Charlie called last night," Renee said as I handed her coffee.

I sat down, eyes wide, confused. "Why?"

"To talk." She took a sip of the dark brown liquid, swirling it around her mouth.

"About…" I led.

"About Christmas."

She didn't smile, she looked timid. "Is he coming down?" He hadn't in a while but I assumed that, like he used to long before, he might reprise the appearance. Frankly, I wanted to see him. Talking to Edward about fathers all those days ago had let the small daddy's girl inside resurface. Technically I hadn't ever been _that_ girl but that didn't mean I didn't want to see him.

"Not exactly." She winced and I swallowed convulsively, "Actually, well, uh," Renee at a loss for words; a day I thought I'd never see, "You see, Phil was talking and, yeah, he has to go to this thing around the holidays and it's not in the city." She set her cup down, giving me her full attention. "He invited me but I told him we have our traditions."

Our traditions consisted of setting out a two foot fake green tree on the coffee table, putting a little star on top and buying each other something twenty dollars or under. On Christmas day we'd eat cookie dough because we were always too lazy to cook while watching whatever television special was on. They weren't important traditions exactly, they didn't have meaning but they were ours.

I could see where she was going and I didn't like it but she was my mother. "So Charlie said he'd take me for the holidays?"

Her eyes dropped and she seemed to find the place mat more entertaining than any plastic woven rectangle could possibly be, "I didn't ask him," she rushed the words like she thought I'd take offense.

So maybe I was a little, small, tiny bit hurt that she'd rather spend that special day with Phil but I was also a mature responsible girl and I could see her point. Now I know I shouldn't have been thinking about Phil, mainly because he was sort of stealing my mother away slowly but surely, but I couldn't help it.

If he was spending Christmas out of the city that meant most, or maybe all, of his friends wouldn't be there for him. It meant, very likely, that his family wouldn't be there. So, yeah, I thought he could use my mother more than I could.

"What _did_ he say?"

"Well, just that he was thinking you should come down, I swear I didn't even tell him about the Phil thing-"

"Don't sound so guilty." I stood up, walking to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, giving a little chuckle to show that _this_ was really no big deal. "I should go see Charlie; it's been a while." She sighed and I knew she was relieved. "So what is Phil's thing anyway?"

I took a bite of the granny smith as I sat back down. "It's this training thing; not a lot of the guys on Phil's team are going, I mean _it is_ a really silly time but it was mostly aimed at the two teams around there. I don't know much about it to tell you the truth."

I nodded my head, "Are you sure you won't mind?" Her voice sounded strained; her cheeks went pink; she just looked altogether uncomfortable.

"Nah, its fine, really, don't stress. How long were you thinking?"

"Like a week?" she answered like a question.

"Yeah, fine, a week sounds good." But really I wasn't sure if it was fine. I couldn't remember Charlie's temperament well. I had a vague idea that he was simple, direct and distant but that was about it. He wasn't like Renee but then no one really was. I smiled at her, yawned, and hoped that as the days ticked down I would feel ready.

--------

The last bell at school had rung two minutes ago; I was just shoving things into my locker when Angela came up. She looked awful but that wasn't what caught me off guard. No, not the fact that she looked like she'd just finished reading up on murder cases; eyes wide, shocked, a little teary; no none of that, just that she _was_ standing next to me. Angela had a fifth spare, last class of the day, and yet she was still here.

"What's wrong?"

She leaned her head against the locker beside mine; it was an empty so at least no one would be bumping her away. I grabbed my coat and locked my own before I took her hand and tugged her away.

She didn't talk until we were two roads away from the school, walking to get coffee. "I broke up with Erick." I had suspected as much but not wanting to be presumptuous, had waited for her to admit it.

I held the coffee shop* door open for her and she trailed miserably in past me.

--------

The coffee shop was trendy, local artist's work was displayed on the walls, hanging on thin wire. There were couches, chairs, stools and tables; none of them truly matched anything else but they all fit. Both ends of the shop had an exit and the front counter was full of yummy, attractive looking chocolate.

Angela and I were sitting at the most private table, it was off to the side. One wall was a window looking out on the parking lot while the other sided with the bathroom. The door to the bathroom wasn't around us so there was no need for any interruptions.

We'd both gotten hot chocolate though mine was white hot chocolate, and we both hadn't said a word since ordering and thanking the barista.

I broke the silence in one fail swoop, "How'd Erick take it?"

Angela's eyes glazed back to life, she was playing with the lip on the tall yellow mug. "He wasn't surprised or anything."

"Did he make a big deal about it?"

"Not really."

"And you spoke to him during your fifth spare?" It was a stupid, irrelevant question but it was all I could come up with. I knew already that the answer was 'yes.' Angela wouldn't have been able to tell him in first, the only class she had with him, because that would have been awkward but then anything would have been awkward, I guess.

She wouldn't have told him at lunch because it was loud, more like a party than a crowd*, or maybe both and therefore inopportune. Actually, since I'd eaten with Angela I knew she hadn't told him then or before. It had been a normal lunch, maybe she had seemed remote but I hadn't been paying her rapt attention.

I'd known she hadn't broken up with him right after our first conversation or the days after because she'd called me day after day fretting about it. We both knew it would come eventually but I hadn't been thinking today.

So the only time when they were together, alone and uninterrupted was their fifth spare. I was slightly surprised that Angela had broken up with him on school property but then inviting him over to break up with him would have been uncomfortable as well.

"Yeah," She answered.

"So it didn't go over so well?" I tried another similar question to get something out of her. If she didn't want to talk about it she wouldn't have found me after school, she could have found someone else to hang out with, I was the only one who knew about Ben.

"It went fine; really." She looked out the window forlornly.

"Then what's wrong; he doesn't want to stay friends? Did he say something rude?"

"No, no, we're going to stay friends. It might be kind of strange for the first couple days at lunch but we'll be good."

"So what's wrong?" it had been the first question and, I supposed, it might be the last. I didn't want to pester her, I wanted to help.

"I just don't think it matters." She blinked back to me and I took a sip instead of pushing more questions onto her. "Ben and I just aren't…" her eyebrows lowered like she'd uncovered a hidden level in 'Donkey Kong 64*,' "just aren't."

Her voice sounded so lost, childlike, sad that I couldn't help emulating her feelings. A tear ran down my face and I brushed it away quickly. "Maybe not now-"

"Not ever," she interrupted; not harshly just truthfully.

"You don't know the future." She let that slide.

"It's going to take me a few days." A few days to what I wasn't sure. She'd been the one to break up with Erick, she'd known for a while so I didn't quite understand why, after she seemed fine about it, she still needed more time. I guessed it wasn't about Erick at all, maybe it never was. Though I wished I saw what she suddenly did; what made her think anew that Ben was impossible.

--------

Wednesday came too soon, not because I didn't want to see Edward but because I wasn't sure if I was supposed to meet him at the library or if he was coming over; we hadn't been clear on that. I assumed he was coming over but assuming can get you in trouble or just make you feel really uncomfortable. It was a fair assumption, I told myself, he'd said he didn't like me walking around in the dark and it was dark now.

He'd come over Saturday morning and it hadn't even been dark then so that led to the obvious; or what I thought was obvious but might not actually be. This was what Edward was doing to me; I was a bi-polar mess. Each second I twisted what I thought made sense.

Shouldn't he have said something? But then I didn't say anything either…*

Renee wasn't home, again, she'd gone to see a movie with Phil; or at least that's what she said. She'd driven to pick him up just over ten minutes ago and the house lay so quiet I could hear that the television, in the other room, hadn't been turned off properly.

Edward wasn't expected for at least twenty minutes, if he was expected at all; it was almost too late to walk to the library if that was what I was supposed to do.

I sighed out loud before trudging up the stairs and grabbing a book from my room. I was back at the kitchen table quicker than someone with my clumsy tendencies should attempt; sitting down I stared at the fraying cover of the book. It was thick; an Edgar Allan Poe collection* of his short stories. I had decided to wait at the house; I was eighty percent certain he would come here.

I turned to the contents page to select a story, scanning them fast, already pretty sure which one I felt like. 'The Cask of Amontillado,' It was one of his more popular stories and one I hadn't read in a couple years, I flipped the book more than half way through, page 542, and began reading.

The doorbell rang one sentence before the end of page 543. I quickly finished the page and turned it, leaving the book open on the table as I got up to get the door.

It was Edward, I knew it would be, but it still stunned me as I opened the door. He'd bundled up more than last time, wearing gloves, a scarf and a thicker coat.

He pulled off his black leather driving gloves as he stepped inside. "Hello, Bella." He smiled and I returned a grin.

"Hello, Edward," I let my fingers play with the cuff of the long white thermal shirt I was wearing, it wasn't as fancy as the last two outfits but I wanted to feel comfortable today.

"How was your day?" he shut the door and nudged his feet out of those same grandpa-like shoes. He was wearing similar socks, white again, but these were just up to the ankles, the edge ribbed in black. Was it strange that I seemed to focus on his socks* both times? Maybe, but socks were usually covered in public so when they did make an appearance I made note.

"It was fine." Fine was one of those throw away words but I wasn't sure how else to answer. "And your own?"

"Quiet."

He walked past me to the kitchen, a quick study. "Why's that?"

"Just hung around," a vague answer but then what I had given was vague as well.

He sat down first, the seat I had vacated before he'd arrived, so I walked around the table to sit across from him. His hands immediately grabbed the book that was sitting open in front of him. He flipped the page back to see which story I was reading before putting his thumb on the page to hold his place as he twisted it to the cover. "I didn't take you for a Poe girl."

"And if I didn't know you so well I wouldn't have taken you for a Carroll* boy."

He laughed as he set the book aside. "And you think you know me so well…"

"Oh, of course," I coughed to clear my discomfort, "Let me guess, you're reading Barrie; 'Peter and Wendy'*?"

"No," His fingers pulled open the binder he'd carried in. "Though that is actually my second favourite book; Peter Pan is a great character."

I raised an eyebrow, "I don't know if I'd say he was great; more like egocentric."

He chuckled and I had to meet his face to see; how could you not look at a gleeful God? His eyes shined at me, the overhead light making his eyelashes cast long elegant shadows on his cheeks. "But he's so young." Edward said like it excused Peter's actions, maybe like he'd encourage him if he were real.

"Like that's an excuse. If the kids in my mom's class used your logic they'd battle over who gets the black crayon*."

He relaxed his smile, one side falling down. "Regardless, I'm impressed*, I'm pretty sure I'm going to read Barrie next."

"So what _are _you reading now, still 'Alice'?"

"'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,'" he answered looking slightly embarrassed, like he always seemed to when he mentioned his reading material.

"Why do you always look so… uncomfortable when we talk about books?"

He flipped through his binder, eyes looking down at the pages, perfect writing easily legible. "I don't know; no one ever asks me about what I like; you know?"

I didn't know actually. Angela and I frequently talked about books, even my mother and I had some conversations, seldom as they were, but I didn't say any of that, "Do you mind talking about them?"

His eyes widened like he was surprised by my question, "No." He pursed his lips, "No I, uh, like talking about books with you," his lips tipped up quickly before returning to a neutral position, "No one's ever cared about what I like before, I, well… I like talking to you."

I blushed, it wasn't like what he said was supposed to be romantic and maybe it wasn't really, but it was nice to hear he liked talking to me. It made me feel warm just hearing that he liked showing his personality; knowing I was the first to ask him questions that seemed he needed to be asked even if they were silly and simple.

"So how'd your test go?"

**Notes:**

* Coffee shop: This is a real coffee shop that I used to go to often. I have no location imagination.

* Party/crowd: This is a reference to my favorite Modest Mouse- 'I've got it all(most)'.

* Secret Donkey Kong 64 level: This was the first game my brain came up with that had secret levels. That's really all there is to this reference.

* Would Edward show up: Yes, well this almost always happens to me. Someone is taking so long to show up that you start to question whether you are the one not showing up. I don't know, I guess I just think anxieties like this are really human.

Oh yes, and Renee meeting Edward will happen but I thought he needed a bit more time to become comfortable in Bella's house.

* Edgar Allan Poe: Bella is reading 'Edgar Allan Poe Greenwich Unabridged Library Classics' printed in 1981. I don't think it's really a Bella book exactly because she's more a classic romance person but I, personally, love, love, love E.A.P.

*Socks: Like I said before I really do love socks. I have way more socks than any one person ever needs. So yeah, I will ramble on about things like socks and there won't be much reason why other than "awe socks are cute".

* Carroll: Lewis Carroll; author of 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'

* Barrie: J.M. Barrie is the writer of 'Peter and Wendy'/ 'Peter Pan' and all other title variations.

*Black crayon: Why do black crayons always get used up so fast?

*Impressed: Edward is impressed Bella already knows him so well; that she knows his book type. He isn't used to people paying a lot of attention to him so it's nice for him to have someone care. For some reason while I read this back it seemed weird that he said he was impressed; I felt I had to clarify.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Thanks for the reviews and alerts. Unfortunately there are no secondary characters present in this chapter; nope, just Edward and Bella. I'm not sure if it was too soon but this **_**was**_** their seventh session so I felt I should do something a little different.**

Chapter Three: part two

"So how'd your test go?" Edward asked effectively changing the course of our conversation.

I pulled the three sheets of test paper that had been stapled together out of my binder. He took the pages, gripping only the smallest corner. My mouth opened before I could control myself, "I really like talking to you too, Edward. You're unusual but I like you," I blinked stupidly, "your personality, I mean," I rushed; surprised by myself, I was never so bold.

The test slipped from his fingers, landing so it was readable for me. My eyes darted up to Edward. His head was shifted to the left, making him look sort of like a lost puppy dog, you know that look; head to the side, eyes a little wider than normal and lips pursed. He seemed to collect himself quickly, righting the test so he could read it as his eyes went up and down; not sure where to focus, the test or me.

He picked me. "How do you know me so well, so soon?" His eyes were clouded now, somehow disguised as they watched me.

"Don't you know me?" It wasn't exactly word vomit but it wasn't intelligent or well thought, no I was just speaking, just answering without considering.

"No." His answer was short and completely honest like he was a little too sure.

And his answer wasn't true. He did know me, didn't he? I'd told him about my father, a little, didn't that count? Or did it only count if he was the only person that knew about that exact part of my life? I was a very open person or at least open with those close to me. So Angela knew about Charlie and Alice knew a little bit. Of course Renee, having married Charlie at some point, understood it all.

Even our talks about books had mostly limited themselves to him. I'd forced him to talk about all the books he'd been reading and yet I'd mentioned only one that _I'd_ been reading and that one had been a slight lie.

"What do you want to know about me?" I settled on.

He grinned like I'd surprised and surpassed his expectations. I hoped I had. "What do you want me to know?"

I stood up before I could stop myself and walked around the table; now that I was in front of him I wasn't so sure. I grabbed the test from in front of him, my hair falling against his shoulder, my arm brushing against his upper arm, I'd never felt so brave.

"Come on," I said as I walked away. It was a bad habit to get into, assuming people would just follow but, nineteen times out of twenty, it's true. I took the stairs two at a time, being extremely careful not to trip. I didn't want to fall back on him, and I knew he was back there, his footsteps, muffled by his socks, made tiny pit patters.

I opened my bedroom door, leaving it open for Edward as I entered and flipped on the light. I knew my room would be clean, which for some people was always a toss up. I wasn't a clean freak but I did like my personal room to be neat. If I was more into my physical appearance I probably would have had clothes littering my room.

For a second I had a terrible thought; maybe I'd left one of Edward's reading material books lying about but even as it swelled I checked out the bookshelf in the corner and everything was straight and appeared accounted for.

I sat on the bed, bending my knees to my chest as I got comfortable so I could watch Edward's expressions. "This is my room." I knew he'd figured that out but sometimes obvious can be important. "This is everything there is to know about me."

His eyes roamed the place seeing seashells at the windowsill; seeing the Polaroid that Renee had taken those couple sessions ago; my smile still over extended, her dress a blur in the reflection of the mirror. I'd framed it a day after it was taken, leaving it on the dresser beside my brush and other female things that you pick up over the years. His eyes moved as he took in the few other pictures, the ones that had been stuck just in the frame of the mirror. Alice and I, Angela and I, Alice and Jasper, one of my mother and an old picture of my father and I. Me as a child sitting in a red painted wooden wagon, Charlie standing with the handle smiling at the camera as I smiled at him.

And now Edward was seeing it all, the three quarters I'd left on the desk next to a necklace with a fancy script reading 'love.'* The quarters I'd separated out because they were old. His eyes saw the birthday cards I'd left on the bookshelf top, all but one laying in a pile. The 'but one' was standing up with it's cute over the top pinkness making a weird juxtaposition against the purple walls. Suddenly I felt that my room was very girly.

The card was one Alice had given me; she'd made it herself, drew the cover, a beautiful flower, and wrote a very touching memory inside. I should have been embarrassed that Edward was seeing all these things but I wasn't, I liked it and that was worrying more than anything.

I wish I knew what he saw, what he actually took in. Maybe all those things I thought he'd take note of didn't even make a mark. Maybe when I saw the necklace he saw the old panda stuffed animal that I'd kept regardless of the fact I hadn't slept with a stuffed animal since I was four. Maybe when I saw photographs he saw the poseable wooden drawing doll on the shelf above my bed.

The only thing I was certain of was when his eyes found my books. He walked over, eyes consumed in wonder. His hand came up and his fingers stroked the spines in a strangely intimate way. I blushed, heaven only knows why.

And he laughed, "I was wondering where you kept these." He pulled out 'Peter and Wendy' maybe because we had just talked about it or maybe not. He examined the brown front, the small gold leaf picture on the cover, before he set it back.

He turned to me then and he looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. How he should look so when I'd just barred myself, who knows.

Instead of asking I patted the bed, not sexually charged, just logical. "So, uh, this is how my test went." I held the test out, the front facing me hoping that I could lead him out of the comfort zone. He took the bait, he sat on the other end of the bed; nobody could ever look so graceful, and took the test in his hands again.

--------

Time fell around us, every time he'd get us back on topic, talking about the exam, he would suddenly see something different in the room. "Why did you paint your room purple?" He was so serious when he asked I had to giggle, just a little.

"Have you ever seen native violets?"

"Viola hederacea; uh, yeah."

I screwed my eyebrow up a little awed he knew the flower by that name. Most people didn't know things like that, did they?

"Yeah, well, something like seven summers ago my mom went on a flower kick. She bought all these books, like _a lot_ of books," I rolled my shoulders back, staring at the walls, "And well I guess I read them too. There was a picture of those flowers and they were the most beautiful colour…" I trailed off.

"Hmm," the simple sound held a form of respect and I wasn't sure why.

"What colour is your bedroom?"

"It's, uh, I guess I could say it's the colour of animal crackers." His smile pulled my heart apart. He laughed deep and carefree.

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes, "I didn't care enough to paint it." It was my turn to laugh.

"How did you know 'Viola hederacea,' I mean, the word?"

"My mom is obsessed about gardening." His eyebrows frowned, "You say your mother had a two month summer kick years ago?" I nodded, "Well imagine that all the time. Summer, spring, fall, hell even winter, she's crazy.*" His eyebrows released the crease.

"She sounds amazing."

He pulled a hand up to scratch his slightly scruffy cheek, "She kind of _is_."

"So, let me guess, same kind of thing? Read her flower books?" I smiled when I asked. I could just imagine Edward with his face is a thick book examining picture after picture, reading the information and translating it into a billion languages.

He played with his lip distractedly, "I have a strange hobby," he finally admitted.

"Which is?" Was I forcing something else out of him or did he want to share? He wouldn't have led me to the question if he didn't want me there, right?

"I whittle*."

"Whittle? Like carve wood?" My cheeks hurt I was smiling so hugely. If I thought Edward with his face in a book was cute it was nothing to my vision of Edward in a plaid long sleeve shirt, like a lumber jacket, outside sitting on a log with a knee up; a knife and branch in hand. I could see that frown line that sometimes appeared between his brows that came from intense concentration. Best of all I could see magic being worked through the blade and his skill.

There was something so beautiful imagining his long fingers working a piece of wood to perfection.

"Well carving and whittling are actually different but yeah, you have the idea."

"What do you make?"

"That's where the books come in. Uh, flowers." His face bent down and I could see a blush rise on the sliver of neck left unobstructed.

"How did you get into that?" I was daunted by Edward's many talents. How can one person do so many things and still be so kind?

He looked up as if taken unexpected. "When I was quite young my mother took my brother and I to this craft fair just out of the city. It was full of pottery, paintings; you know that kind of thing. I was examining a booth of wooden carvings, whittlings really, and the man there offered me a gypsy flower. He didn't ask for payment or anything, he just gave me something because he saw my interest*." Edward looked contemplative for a moment, "I'm not artistic or anything not in the traditional pencil to paper sense but there is something about creating _something_. Do you like to draw?"

His hand twitched and pointed to that poseable doll I'd thought he might have noticed before. Now it was my turn to feel vexed, "I draw, or sketch, but, you know, nothing great. People are kind of fascinating…"

"Yes, they are."

His eyes magnetized to mine and the moment grew critical. His words held more than they should, or at least sounded like they meant more. I popped the moment, knowing I had to, "Well sometimes I just like to capture expressions or the way their hands move," I twisted my face away to watch the bottom of my curtains dance against the vent, "That probably sounds really weird."

"No. I think I understand."

I wasn't going to admit it to him or anyone else but since I'd met him I'd started doodling green eyes on the margins of my math homework; I'd started sketching long fingers on the inner sleeve of my English binder. Since I'd met Edward there'd come to be a stack of loose-leaf with his likeness stuffed in my sock drawer. Edward mixed with characters from the books he'd been reading and Edward with that silly lopsided grin.

I wanted to remember him how he was, in these moments, because soon that was all that would be left… right? Yes, that was all I had.

--------

Edward was half way through a sentence about the plural form of apples when he broke off, "What is that?" his eyes were pointed up at the shelf that was just out of heads way. I peered through the contents. Not much, the biggest thing was my CD player.

"Which?"

"That green box?"

I reached over to grab it. The box was about the size of his palm, it was covered in a green cloth with burgundy and gold embroidery. There was a gold clasp in the front that kept it closed. I popped the clasp and the lid sprang back. I grabbed the little instruction booklet from the lid and handed it to him.

"Chinese health balls." I laughed to cover up the slight embarrassment, "Renee went through a no pill health thing."

Edward flipped through the three English pages in the small pamphlet before eyeing me. "Do they work?"

I picked them out of the red velvet lined box. "I don't know," I admitted honestly. In one hand I passed the spheres to him. He laid the booklet on the green comforter before he took them in both his hands. His long fingers twisted one around. There were two little pandas on each, painted on. "I bought them for the artwork." One side of his smile turned up.

He put one to his ear and shook it gently. The bells inside rang beautifully clear, "That's sort of amazing."*

--------

"So what are those things on your windowsill," that was his answer when I asked him about the pronunciation of a sentence I'd written on my test 'do you have some change for the parking meter?'

"Those little bright things?" I asked clarifying.

"Yeah, what are they?" his eyes were open, bright green; the overhead light was picking out a slight smattering of gold flecks near the pupil.

"Worry dolls."

"Worry dolls?"

"You put them under your pillow at night and they're supposed to remove your worries," I sighed, "I think they're from, uh, Guatemala, or something around there. Renee gave them to me for my birthday one year."*

"Do _they_ work?" Why did he always want to know if something worked? It didn't matter so much if they worked, not to me, it mattered that they gave illusions of help.

"I don't know."

He seemed to think about that for a moment. I rested my head on my hand just watching him. He looked so contented on my bed. His legs were hanging over the edge, his back leaning against one of my pillows.

His gaze flicked down and he looked at the silver watch on his wrist. "It's late," he said and I looked over to my alarm clock. It was twenty minutes after our session was supposed to have ended. I stood up immediately.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to keep you." He followed suit.

"No, Bella, don't worry. I made you talk about non-French topics more than half the time."

He took the test papers with him and walked out the door. I scurried to grab one of the worry dolls and then to follow after.

Then we were standing in that awkward half goodbye way. I just wanted him to stay, how strange.

He put his coat on, shoving his feet in the shoes and otherwise bundling up, his face a little red. "I'll look over the rest of this and we'll talk about it Saturday." He raised the test just a little so I'd know what he was talking about.

"Okay."

"So, yeah, Saturday…" He trailed off unsure.

"Saturday, yeah, of course." I smiled as reassuringly as I could. "Here," As I'd spoken I'd gotten a twenty out of my pants pockets. I passed the money and the worry doll to Edward. He took it and opened his mouth as if to say something and then thought better of it and closed it. "I thought you should try the doll for yourself."

"Thanks," and it sounded like he really meant it.

"Tell me if you think it works on Saturday." He smiled at that and nodded offhandedly, his eyes too busy examining the little yellow doll. Then he smiled and I jellied, right on the spot. My legs felt like they were about to give out.

He didn't look up as he left, he didn't say goodbye but it felt more important for all those things.

**Notes:**

* 'love' necklace: The other night when I was out and about and actually living my life, which is rare at best, a girl I know was wearing this necklace. I liked it so much I stole the concept of it. Wow I sound crazy… anyway I just thought it was really pretty.

* Gardening: My mother used to work at a green house so sometimes I start writing about plants and flowers and I don't know why…

* Whittle: I didn't want Edward to be a piano prodigy though I'm not knocking when people do that, I like that, I really do but… I just wanted to do something different.

* Gypsy Flower: When I was young I went to 'The Forks' in Manitoba and a man gave me a gypsy flower. The story Edward tells is very much similar to what happened to me except I don't whittle, I never have and I probably never will.

* Chinese Health Balls: I don't know how popular these are so in case they aren't I'm making note of them. They are generally two balls slightly smaller than golf balls that you twist through your fingers. They are supposed to do a handful of things, namely flexing your fingers and so on, and can come in any colour of the rainbow.

* Worry dolls: Another quirky item to find in a bedroom. The dolls are supposed to take on the persons worries so the dolls 'worry for you.' As with the Chinese health balls, I'm not sure if these are a popular culture thing so you can just ignore me if I'm over explaining.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Today is my birthday and so I am feeling immensely old. Oh getting older, why can't it be the other way? Oh yes because we've seen it the other way thanks to 'Benjamin Button' and that doesn't look like so much fun either. Oh well, if only we could stop when we felt like it. Anyway I was planning on getting out a chapter of 'Nearly' but because I am really terrible at updating anything I finished this chapter instead.**

**Many thanks for reviews and alerts. I love them very much.**

Chapter Three: part three

The radio was playing in the background as Edward and I had our Saturday morning tutor session. He was in a good mood and because he was, I was. His attitude was contagious, his humor infectious. He'd give me tongue twisters and bad, stupid jokes in French; laughter carefully contained as he waited for me to figure them out. I'd never found another person so funny.

We were sitting beside each other at the kitchen table because I'd sat down first; I'd done it on purpose. He was leaning over the table and toward me, bridging the gap, so to speak. And I was doing the same, I liked him, I really did. Just thinking about him, even as he sat near me, I couldn't help blushing a little. He noticed but didn't comment.

His left hand's fingers an inch from mine flexing a fraction. What had changed from last Wednesday to today? I wasn't sure exactly but I knew I felt more comfortable with him. Was it because I'd shared so much of myself with him or something else?

Two words into a new French joke Edward seemed to trail off, his eyes piecing me; it was unexpected, so suddenly, but maybe not. His eyes seemed to grab mine whenever they felt the need to do so; they'd repeatedly caught me since we'd met.

Yet this time the silence dictated something different, something intense and uncertain, at least for me. I could feel myself going redder, my muscles tensing. This was _the_ moment; however unaware and unprepared I was.

Edward's whole body shifted, just a little, but since I was becoming obsessively involved with every little thing Edward, I noticed.*

"Bella!" Renee's voice electrocuted our anticipation and I twisted to see her tumbling down the stairs, much more gracefully than I could ever in the rush she appeared to be in. She was wearing the dark blue jeans she'd worn yesterday and a loose fitting pale yellow tank top. A white see through shirt was half button over except she'd buttoned it wrong so that one part of the shirt ran longer than the other.

She was wearing one black sock while holding the other and her hair was in a tipsy pony tail. I blinked at her like I was a stupid mule.

Renee's eyes flicked to Edward as she took the last step and his appearance seemed to agitate her further.

"What's wrong?" I asked in a hollow voice.

"My alarm didn't go off," she practically yelled, running past us and into the kitchen, knocking over the small paper napkin holder on the counter as she rummaged.

"So?" I questioned, "Its Saturday mom, you know that day when you don't work."

She laughed harshly like I'd just told her Santa didn't exist and didn't want to believe me. "I know I don't work today," she coughed around a mouthful of cheap grocery bran muffin. "I was supposed to pick up Phil in," she glanced at the watch on her wrist, "Fuck, in two minutes."

"You didn't tell me that last night." I pointed out. She knew I would have woken her if I'd known ahead of time.

"Yes, well, I forgot more than once." She grabbed a banana from off the counter leaving her bran mess for a later cleanup. She coughed again, rushing to grab a glass from the closest cabinet to the two of us. Was it weird that I thought of Edward as the two of us? We weren't technically anything.

She filled the glass with tap water and took a long sip as her eyes finally returned to us. They grew wider as she stared at Edward and I almost turned to see how her wide eyed look had affected him but I didn't. There was something too telling if I cared to check, Renee was always extremely observant of human interaction.

"What are you doing with Phil this early?" She didn't exactly have time to give me a play by play but I asked regardless.

"Shoes," she sputtered. She took one last gulp before leaving her half finished water on the counter. It hit the sensitive radio and the volume went up a couple decimals; still quiet but not as distant. "And nice to meet you 'boy that is sitting at the table with Bella'."

I blushed to heaven and back. Why did that sound like an accusation? "Mom, this is my tutor, Edward Cullen." I quickly supplied the introduction, finally allowing myself the great privilege of turning around to see him.

He gave my mother a tight smile and lifted a hand to give a wave.

"Ah." Renee's voice sounded surprised and inquisitive, not a good combination.

"You said two minutes, right?" I pointed out before she could grill Edward as only she could and I knew she would. I turned to give her a tight glare.

"Fuck," she repeated. With the banana in hand she rushed out of the room, no goodbye, nothing. I heard the door open in her rush and only hoped she remembered her shoes. "Shoes, fuck," I heard her cry and I had to laugh.

"Don't forget to rebutton your shirt," I called.

"Fuck*." She muttered.

Banging was heard as I turned back to Edward who seemed immensely bemused. The door slammed and our moment resumed only this wasn't the same kind of moment. No this was one of those awkward ones that caused those stuttered, unable to allow, words.

And then Edward laughed, it was a deep unchallenged laugh and I couldn't stop myself from joining in.

It was a while later when we were both mostly composed. "Your mother is nothing like I imagined," he stated.

"Renee is like nothing anyone has imagined."

He chuckled. "But, I mean, she's extremely different than I could _ever_ imagine. And you, you don't seem anything alike." It wasn't the first time someone had pointed out our differences. "I mean you're completely opposite."

"You met her for, what, ten seconds?" I laughed.

He laughed too, "Too soon to say for certain but I think, and when I said 'I think' I mean I'm 90% sure, that that wasn't unusual for her. Am I right?"

"You are right; I'm starting to suspect you are _always _right. Am I right?"

"Well that's hard to say," He joked back, "I mean I have been right for a very long time."

"So humble," I laughed.

"Who me?" he rolled his eyes, "Humble is beneath me."

He laughed and I followed suit. When did he get _this_ comfortable? This was too fast, too much of a change.

Our laughter sobered up as the music played. Edward's eyes twitched and flicked to the radio. "What a perfect song," he finally said.

I listened closely. "A fan of Billy Idol?*" I asked smiling like the bimbo I was fairly certain I was becoming in his presence.

"Well, yeah, actually I am," His eyes returned to mine, "But the song's perfect not because it's Billy Idol but because there's French in it." And as his words drained from my ear's attention and I caught the music more wholly I noticed what he said was true. The female backup singers crooning '_Les yeux sans visage.'_ "Can you translate that?"

"Eyes without a face," I didn't even have to think about it. It was the name of the song after all.

"Eyes without a face," he repeated, the humor draining from his face.

"Like the movie." I bit my lip.

He seemed impressed, "You've seen 'Les Yeux Sans Visage*?'" he asked in his perfect accent.

It was my turn to be impressed; it wasn't, in any circle I'd ever known, considered a well known movie. "Yeah." I grinned that stupid grin you get when you're connecting with someone so well you could practically be reading each others' minds.

"Did you like it?" And just like that we were back in that serious moment; him leaning in to me but this time not charged just pleasant.

"It was creepy."

"Yeah," he sighed, "The French can outdo every American horror film with a flick of a pinky finger." He took a loud breath, or was it just because he was so close that it seemed loud? "You see so little, it's much more effective."

"It's a haunting movie. Everything about it…" I trailed off, "Do you think Billy Idol saw it?" I was trying to bring us back to easy chatter.

"Oh, I know he did," the right side of his grin pulled up. "How could he not have? It's far too coincidental." He pulled back slightly, and I noticed his hand was shaking slightly. Was he nervous? "But speaking of the French translations of human features…"

And we were off, back into our studies.

--------

Renee arrived home an hour after Edward had left and she looked worse for wear. Her hair was spilling out of the pony tail she'd had it in, framing her face. It wasn't fair that this messy look actually made her look so beautiful. If it had been me I'd just have looked like a sewer rat.

She set down her purse beside me on the couch; I'd been watching cartoons in the living room. Shrugging out of her coat she spoke, "That was the longest morning of my life."

I shook my head. "Shoes?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"What?" she murmured as she collapsed on the other couch.

"You said you had something to do with Phil this morning and when I asked you said it was about shoes?" I made it into a question.

She rolled her eyes and yawned, "Cleats, I think that's what they call them. Apparently 'shoes' is too vague a word."

"Uh, yeah, what?"

She sighed, "Can I have the remote?" I threw it toward her, her hands were up to catch it but the remote flew too left and hit the cushions. She picked it up lazily and started flipping channels. "Phil needed to go and get special cleats."

"Why?" I asked amused.

"For his baseball," she stated, her voice making me feel I'd been too dense to already figure this out. I didn't say anything for a while and she heard the confusion I'd laced it with. "They're like baseball shoes," she supplied, "I don't know they look like torture devices you put on your feet*." I laughed then.

"Yeah, it was weird. They measured Phil's feet from tip to top, like they were about to mould a piece of art."

"And you went with him why…?"

That made her petulant. "Because I wanted to."

I turned my attention back to the television where Renee had begun watching the news. I cocked my head back to her, "What's up with you; the news?"

"There's supposed to be a little story about Phil's team." I frowned, when did everything become about Phil? Renee hated the news, this was the twilight zone.

Half an hour later as the newscaster finished Renee spoke again, "You didn't tell me your tutor was drop dead attractive."

She'd made the comment sound flippant but I could see the storm strolling just beyond the surface. "Eh," I whispered noncommittally.

"Eh?" She burst, "Eh? That's all I get after everything."

I shrugged, "He's my tutor."

"Eh?" She repeated, "Bella you've got to be kidding me. You've been spending weekend after weekend with a boy that makes Calvin Kline models look boring."

She turned the television off because I'd been avoiding her watching the commercials. With nothing but black to see I twisted back to her. "Yeah, well we just study together."

"Phstt." The strangest sound emitted from my mother's mouth. "And you were going on about not needing to impress him. Tell me the truth, you have to be a little attracted to the boy; no?"

I blushed and she rose an eyebrow catching me immediately, "Like you said he's good looking," I tried to make it sound flippant but the Swan woman were crap at flippant.

She grinned, "And I've been thinking your improvement in French was all that hard work and extra sessions. Now I'm wondering how much work you guys actually get done."

"Mom," I whined.

"No really, I mean it, because I'm thinking with the way he was looking at you and the way you were avoiding looking at him with me there; there's something going on." Even if I didn't look at him she caught me, I could hardly believe she was _that_ good.

"He wasn't looking at me like that."

"Yeah, that's right, of course," her voice was mocking and I hated it.

"You know I could do what you're doing right now about Phil."

"So you admit you like your Edward Cullen like I like my Phil."

"Gah," abruptly I felt stupid, "No," I half shouted, "No," I repeated more composed, "You know I could pick on you like _this_." Always better to turn the conversation back on the dominate person.

"No, I think you mean you like Edward." Then again Renee was better at these kinds of things, at finding out all the gritty details. Good thing there really weren't any.

"Where is your logic?"

"Logic?" She threw the remote back toward me, landing like before just next to me, she knew I couldn't catch it if I tried. "You see him, what, twice a week; you have to be crushing a little, at least."

"Like he's _so_ attractive I've become a blubbery fool that thinks of him like a piece of meat," I mocked.

"Yes, he _is_ that attractive that no one could possibly hold off falling for him." So I blushed because I couldn't help it. "See I know you better than you think."

"No one knows me better," I replied agreeing with her.

"So, what's he like? What's he into?" Her questions came out in a rush and I wanted to groan.

"Mom," I whined.

"Give me something," she pleaded. "You've never been the typical hormonal teenager. I might never get another chance to gush about boys with you."

I took a deep breath, "He's smart and quiet."

She sat waiting in anticipation for more, "Wait, that's it? That's seriously all I get?"

My eyes were pleading with her to stop but she didn't seem to care, "Um, he reads a lot?" I made it a question.

"That's good, that's like you." I nodded, "And…?"

"Uh, mom I seriously don't know. I don't know that much about him." That was true, no matter how hard I thought about our time together, thought over all he'd said, I realized I really didn't know that much about him. Books and a smidge of family life; wow I knew nothing.

"You've known him for at least three weeks and that's all you know?"

"Mom, he's my tutor, we study when we're together." Or at least we mostly studied, but I wasn't going to say that.

"I'll stop bugging you," She relented.

"Thank-you."

"You're welcome."

"So you went with Phil to get his feet measured?" I made it sound stupid, strange and all together ridiculous. After all _I _never said I'd stop picking on her.

"Shut up." She threw a pillow at me, it hit me on the jaw and we both started laughing.

It might seem strange how Renee and I interacted, how she seemed more like a teenage friend than a mother but it was all I knew. It was fun to play around with her, to make fun of each other. It never felt mean; we were just honest. But Renee had brought to my attention a lot of things I'd wanted to bury.

Because the truth was, like I'd already discovered, I did like Edward. I liked him as a person and I liked him as a male person. I liked him like I'd never _liked_ anyone before but since this was un-chartered territory I didn't know how much this like meant. Was it a crush, was it more? When do you know?

**Notes:**

* No conversation at the beginning: I wanted to explain the situation without words spoken between the two to give a feeling of quiet, to make it seem like all the details were kind of bleeding away and Bella was stuck on just Edward. I don't think this really worked out quite right so I may just go back later and play around with it.

* Swearing: My own mother is a crazy swear-er so I just went with it. If you're offended by crude language I apologize. I'm only putting them in where I think they fit.

* Billy Idol: Okay, well I personally, love me some Billy Idol. I saw him live once and it was the best concert I've ever seen but then again he's pretty much the only artist/band that I really enjoy that has come around to the middle of nowhere, yes I live in literally the middle of nowhere.

* 'Les Yeux San Visage': This is a movie that came out in 1960 about a doctor whose daughter's facial skin is gone from the result of a car accident. The doctor goes about kidnapping other young women and removing their facial tissue to graft onto his daughter. It is a strangely eerie movie that even the summary can give me the ghitters. Don't get me wrong I love me some gory horror movies too.

I chose this movie for many reasons. One was I wanted to show that Bella and Edward have more in common than just books. Another was *shrugs* it was one of the most memorable French films I've seen.

* Cleats: Cleats are shoes they use in baseball, soccer and some track and field events. I used to play soccer so I don't know much about Baseball cleats but for soccer, at least, they are shoes that have poky things on the bottom. Does that make sense? I'm not very good at describing things.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: The problem when I start writing chapters focusing on secondary characters is that I go crazy on length. I start thinking Renee is ridiculously funny and can't get enough of her because honestly her part in this chapter is unnecessary and yet I couldn't bare to cut it after I wrote it. As I've said many a time 'I have no sense of humor' because as long as something is remotely funny I'll laugh like a hyena.**

**Anyway now that I've dissected myself I'll say 'thank-you, thank-you so much for reading'. I appreciate it much more than I could ever express.**

"The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender"  
-Emil Ludwig

Chapter Four: part one

It was three pm when the phone rang. I was at the kitchen table riffling through a 'Sears' catalogue looking through pictures of luggage when the phones' annoying beeping interrupted the pros and cons of purple vs. blue bags. Distractedly I reached behind me for the telephone as Renee's voice called out, "If it's for me tell them to call back."

My eyes left the page to give a strange look toward the stairs, toward her voice. Renee loved answering the phone; she loved talking on it more. She was the kind of person that wished for telemarketers so she could convince them of something just as ridiculous as whatever set of stainless knives they were selling.

I was so distracted, or maybe just inept, that my attempt to pick up the phone led to that awful sound of crashing. "Typical," I muttered as I swiveled to assess the damage. The battery cover had flown two feet from the phone but other than that small damage the phone had seen worse days. I grabbed it, cradling the back in case the batteries wanted to fly the coop as well, "Hello, Swan residence, Bella speaking."

"Bella," Angela frantically stuttered.

"Hey Angela, how are you?"

"You're not busy tonight, are you?"

"Um," I chanced letting the batteries handle themselves as I reached for the case. "Just one sec." I took the small plastic square, flipped the phone and fixed it. "Sorry, uh yeah, I'm free."

"Okay, not anymore?" She made it sound like a question.

My attention returned to the thick magazine; eyes flicking back and forth over the colour choices. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"Tyler is having a party." I rose as eyebrow, reaching across the table for a ball point pen I'd abandoned hours earlier.

I stopped her there, "You want to go to a teen booze party?"

"Well, no." I tapped the page with the end of the pen in time with my breaths.

"Then…"

"Okay, you're going to hate me but, uh, well, Ben is going to be there."

I blinked, "Why would I hate you?"

"Because it's just so pathetic and stupid; I feel so juvenile."

I flipped the page; childrens luggage shocked my eyes with crazy bright colours and the newest Pixar/Disney characters. I quickly went back to the 'boring' page. "Yeah I'm pretty sure you're none of those things. If you like a guy, well, I understand wanting to see him. Plus when you're not at school… then it's just different. I understand that."

"You do?"

I laughed and rolled my eyes, "So details?"

"Uh, yes. Yes," she repeated more assured, "Tyler is having this, like, thing at his house. School Tyler not crazy Alice ex Tyler." I nodded, though she couldn't see. I'd already figured she wouldn't drag me to a crazy friend's ex's house. "And I really want to go but I… just _can't_ go alone."

"I'll go with you," I assured, "What time does it start?"

"Around eight," She paused and I could already hear another request coming, "but I really don't have anything to wear and _I know_ how above and beyond girly that sounds but… I just need help."

"Angela, relax seriously. You want something nice to wear. We can do that, or uh, we can try."

She giggled a sound that came out forced and uncomfortable. "I hope so. So can I come by in say, like twenty minutes? We can go to the mall, look around?"

"Sure," I drew the word out as I circled the blue square on the page.

"Thank you Bella. I owe you."

"Nothing to owe."

"You are sadly mistaken. This is going to be the rest of your day. Not to mention your night."

"Breathe Angela."

She made a weird breathy sound before adding, "So I'll pick you up. Is that okay?"

"Yeah sure, see you then."

"Bye and thanks."

I clicked end on the phone, rested it on the picture of travel accessories I'm chosen and headed upstairs. Renee's door was closed. "Mom," I called.

"What?" She answered.

"What are you doing in there?" I asked curiously.

"You really don't want to know," she laughed but my interest was piqued.

"Can I come in?" I hedged letting my hand hover the door handle.

"Uh, if you're brave enough."

I opened the door, my mother was face down on the bed, arms out behind her struggling with the tiny hooks that were in abundance on the under bodice thing she was sporting.

"What in the world are you doing?" I questioned, eyes bulging not in embarrassment though I'm sure most young girls would be red seeing their mothers in lingerie-like, well as I said before, _things_. There was no other word for what she was wearing. It was black and tight but fully covering everything that needed to be covered.

She made a pitiful sound before her hands hit the sides of the bed in defeat, "Please help me."

I walked over, examined the almost swimsuit in appearance underwear, and did up the twelve bra hooks. "There you go." She rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Now are you going to explain why you're wearing that?"

She rolled her eyes like a child, "Because I need the support."

"What?... uh" I interrupted myself, "No, I mean why on Earth are _you_ putting yourself through medieval female suffocation?"

She huffed, "You're my daughter you have to pretend my goods aren't hovering near my knees but Phil is, after all, a lot," she whispered the last word, "Younger and I just can't be seen with all the other baseball girlfriends with my breasts so close to the ground."

"Uh, I… I mean, mom." My articulate attempts at conversing; I should win an award for such perfect dialogue.

"This will flatten everything that needs to be flattened and thrust out everything that needs thrusting," She laughed at her own personal joke that I didn't understand or want to understand.

"When did you even buy that thing?" I'd certainly never been witness to that purchase.

She stood up and walked to her dresser. "A couple days ago." Her hands busied themselves in the contents of a drawer. She spun around showing me an elastic looking black dress. "I needed something special to wear under this." She made the dress dance in front of her. "Because this is so tight that you'll see every imperfection."

"Which brings to mind the question, 'why wear it?'"

She gave me an annoyed look. "It's not much to look at hanging off my finger but you'll understand when you see it on."

"So you are planning on putting clothes on tonight?"

"Ha, ha very funny," she threw the dress onto the bed, missing my head by about an inch from where I stood, dumbstruck. "I just wanted to try this thing on. I didn't realize it'd be so hard. I guess one of those store attendants did help me into it at the shop but, well, I didn't anticipate it'd be so difficult."

"Live and learn," I muttered. "Are you going to need help getting the clasps undone?"

She shook her head, "Nah, It's easy to get off, hard to get on, apparently."

"So then I'm going to leave you to that." I turned and walked to my bedroom to grab my purse.

As I passed Renee's room on the way down she called out, "Where're you going?"

"Angela needed some help picking out something at the mall." I slowly edged my feet down the stairs backwards, a very stupid thing for someone with my dexterity.

"That doesn't sound like Angela," she commented.

"No, well, she has this thing. Or I guess _we_ have this thing. Tyler is having people over or something, whatever."

Renee's head peaked out from behind the door, glancing at me where I stood half way down the stairs. "You're going to a party?"

"Well, yeah."

"It's like suddenly all the teenage clichés come true in one day. What else have you been hiding from me? Tell me you're going to start singing about competitive sports. Do a choreographed dance?" She raised her eyebrows speculatively.*

"Gosh mom you're so funny."

"Just call me if you guys need a ride home."

"You really think Angela and I are going to drink." I turned away from her stare.

"You never know…" She trailed off.

--------

It was hours later when I decided shopping was pure undiluted hell. The mall was a mess with teenagers and children who looked too young to be out and about without parental supervision. When had Renee allowed me to leave the house without her? Was I really so young, so naïve?

Angela and I had walked the mall up and down twice, which wasn't hard considering it was only one level and didn't have a ridiculous amount of stores. Out of those stores only about half were clothing centered, slice a fourth off for men's wear and we were left with maybe six decent stops. Even with so few places to admire we'd been rushing around.

"I could just get that pink sweater," Angela commented. "I could wear these jeans and get that sweater," she continued. "It's a little tight, I mean, I know it's supposed to be like that but a little tighter than I'm used to."

I nodded along. "It looked good on you."

"You think?" she twisted around to give me a thorough look, see if I were lying.

"I think so," I answered honestly.

"And it's really not too expensive." I nodded as she walked back to the first store we'd gone to. Funny how many times the first stop is all you need. It was strange to hear Angela talk at length about clothing; she wasn't usually so aesthetic. She was like me in that way, it covered everything, it was good to go.

We passed the food court and walked down the main bend. As we went by a bead store Angela stopped. "Do you mind?" She inquired cocking her head toward the colourful store.

"No I don't mind." She walked off in front of me going toward the already completed necklaces and bracelets while I turned and looked into the front display. It was ful of semi precious stones and crystals. One of them caught my eye; it was the exact shade of Edward's eyes.

The stone was in a flat diamond shape, a hole had been drilled on one of the points and a black thread was strung through the hole so it could be worn around your neck or wrist, whichever or neither.

My eyes trailed up to the sales girl. "Would you like to see anything?" She asked. Her name tag read 'Amy' and she looked bored out of her mind. I didn't think too many people came into the bead store or at least not a steady flow. An Indie Band was playing in the background and I guessed she at least had control over the music.

"Can I see that green one?" I murmured.

"Sure," she seemed relieved that I actually needed something. Usually clerks seemed annoyed when you asked to see the merchandise. Maybe that was simply my experiences?

She pulled it out and offered it to me, "Thanks."

"It's Chrysoprase*," She informed me.

"Oh?"

"I don't actually know much about it. I think it's supposed to help you sleep or something, or at least that's that myth." She gave a subtle laugh, one that made me think she only half believed what she'd told me.

But regardless of what it 'meant' it felt right in my hand. It reminded me of Edward in more ways than just the colour but I couldn't pinpoint why. In an absurd way I wanted to buy it for him, to see it hanging on his neck mimicking and picking up the colours.

Angela walked up then, "Pretty," she said.

"Yeah it is."

"What do you think?" She held a small wire bracelet, clear diamond shaped beads spread down the band.

"It's very you." I smiled.

"Are you going to get that?" Angela asked nudging her head toward the green stone.

"Yeah, I am," I answered smoothly.

--------

We stopped back at my house to change and get ready before heading to the party. Angela put on the pink top, leaving her jeans on as she'd planned, adding the bracelet for effect. She looked cute and definitely not over done; like herself. Renee lent her makeup to us but Angela didn't use much. She was more comfortable than I would have been.

I didn't change or put makeup on, there wasn't any boys there that I wanted to impress. I tied the necklace around my neck and hid it under my top. It felt comfortable around my neck even better than simply holding it.

Angela and I prepared macaroni and cheese for supper before heading off to Tyler's. Renee reminding me she'd be around if we needed help home. We'd laughed at her and I'd given her a look. "You aren't going out with Phil tonight in that black dress?" I questioned with a mocking tone.

"Nope," she replied unashamed. "That's for a special night. And anyway Phil is busy." She didn't expand and I didn't really want to know anything more about special nights including Phil and my mother.

"Good night," I told her instead, shoving my fingers deep into my mittens.

--------

There were two things I learnt the second I walked into Tyler's house. One was that I didn't like constantly loud inescapable places. Two was I didn't enjoy drunken people hanging on to me. Angela went off to get a glass of water, not being one to drink. She was two steps away when Mike, a boy from out grade, grabbed my arm and pulled me into the living room. "I didn't think _you'd_ come," he practically shouted.

"Oh, um, well…" He lunged onto the grey couch pulling me with him.

"Don't get me wrong I'm glad you did Bella." He smiled at me, his whole face lighting up, his eyes disappearing to the squinty way he looked. I swallowed convulsively.

I nudged some space between us as politely as I could and looked around for Angela thinking she'd taken longer than needed to find a glass and a facet. "Tyler's parents let him have these kinds of things often?" I asked trying to make basic conversation.

"Ohhh yeah," he hiccuped and the music switched to another song. A couple walked past us, her hands in his back pockets. They laughed; in their own world. This wasn't really like the parties they showed on TV. I would be lying if I didn't say I expected smutty dancing and an overflowing keg. I was sure there was alcohol; I mean Mike was obviously tanked, but the evidence wasn't in the living room at least, and as for dancing, well there was defiantly not dancing. People were standing around in groups of two, three and four, talking over the music like Mike and I were.

I recognized almost everyone but didn't attempt to go up and join a new party. Mike might not be my favorite person of all time but at least he wasn't trying to pull anything on me.

And then his hand was on my face, twisting it away from the other partiers and toward him. He gave me a heavy lidded look and his mouth came toward mine. In a rash move I stood up and he ended up kissing my ear, a loud sucking, smacking sound. "You're drunk, I uh, need to find Angela." I wondered off to find the kitchen.

Mike wasn't a pervert or anything and I trusted him not to push too far but I still had no intentions of kissing him. I hoped he wouldn't remember in the morning or at least not comment on the instance ever again.

I didn't end up finding the kitchen or Angela instead I found myself in the basement. Another bunch of kids were hanging out down here and none of them seemed drunk. Some had drinks but they seemed to be sipping more than anything. A movie was playing, being mostly ignored, while they discussed general gossip. I stood next to Jessica Staley, a girl who Angela and I hung around but weren't very close with, as she ranted about her Psychology teacher.

--------

It's funny how time can pass like mad when you're off in your own head. I didn't bother trying to add anything to the conversations in the basement but no one seemed to notice. People went and left but enough stayed nomadic that I basically just sat around thinking about unrelated things. Okay, mostly French things.

So it surprised me when I finally looked at the clock and noticed that three hours and some minutes had gone by. I got up without a word to find Angela. I was a crap friend; I'd basically left her on her own for the majority of the night. I hoped she'd found Ben.

Upstairs was slightly crazier than when I'd left but Mike was still around, he looked half passed out on the couch. "Mike," I spoke loud enough to be heard over the bass. "Mike, have you seen Angela?"

His eyes looked glassy, "Bathroom?" His eyes flickered shut.

I looked around the room before I noticed a hallway. The bathroom would be down there if nothing else. No one was standing waiting in front of it like how movies showed the same situation but the door was closed. I knocked, "Hey Angela?" I called feeling like a dolt. "You in there?"

A groan sounded from behind the door. "Angela?" I tried again followed by another groan. I tried the knob and it surprisingly opened. "Oh God, are you okay?" Angela was huddled in the tub fully clothed but looking miserable. "Did you drink too much?"

She looked up, "No, I didn't drink at all."

"Oh," I didn't expect her to drink but I didn't know why she was hiding out in here either. "What's wrong?"

"Can you drive me home?"

"Yeah for sure."

I offered her my hand and helped her out of the tub. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Drive to your house, I'll drive myself home." We left without any goodbyes; just slipped out the way we'd entered. I took her keys and started the drive home. Angela didn't say a word and I didn't try to get anything out of her the whole way there.

"Thanks," She whispered as she took over the driver's seat. She looked funny; a bright red hat with earmuffs and cat ears was covering the majority of her head.

I shivered, "Have a good night, feel better." She nodded and closed the car door while I walked toward the house. And so ended the night of the first party I'd ever attend. Nothing had happened really, I didn't know why they were so popular but the whole experience left a nasty taste in my mouth.*

--------

It was November 29th, Wednesday night and I was twirling a pen in my fingers trying to do that cool spin-y between the fingers thing that some people were talented enough to perfect. Edward was sitting next to me, his arm touching mine. He'd avoided using his right the whole time in such a deliberate way I couldn't help thinking he didn't want to lose our connection.

We weren't skin to skin, no; in fact we were skin to sweater to sweater to skin, not so romantic to an outsider. Yet half my body felt stimulated, alive and was inappropriately agitated.

Renee was upstairs on the portable telephone; a hair away. Too close, too far.

With his left hand he took the pen from me, his fingers sparking against my bare flesh. My attention went from my books to his face. "You're terrible at that," he stated. With his left hand out in front of me he twirled the pen expertly.

"Seriously, are you perfect?"

He laughed, "Do you think that being good at everything means someone's perfect?" he countered.

"Do you think you're good at everything?"

"No," he answered. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Maybe."

He left my half-assed answer alone and spoke again, "Because me, I think perfection is being bad at things, at messing up. I think perfection," the word sounded like heaven in his voice, "is the little imperfections that make someone, well, _who_ they are."

I stole the pen from his spinning fingers, "You must love me then. There is no one with more imperfections than me." I laughed and glanced up at him. His eyes had turned hard, stunning, not harsh but acute. Looking at him made me forget to breath. "So, uh, how do you do this?" I held up the pen.

He blinked. "I don't think I can teach you that. French, yeah I'm your guy, but pen tricks? No offence Bella but you'd be terrible at them."

I made a fake huffing sound and he stole the pen back. With his left hand, again, he showed off a few other moves; spinning it around his middle finger and then around his thumb*. "It's all about pressure and finger positions. Do you really want me to show you something?"

I frowned, "You're right. I'd be hopeless."

"You wouldn't be hopeless but it would be a waste of your time and talent."

"What talent?"

He rolled his eyes, "I wish you would have more confidence in yourself."

I went to snatch the pen from him once more but he held it further away, giving me an amused grin. "Edward," I squeaked.

He kept it out of reach for a few minutes before getting tired of the game and simply holding it to me in front of his chest. Suddenly I become aware of how close I was to him; I looked up basking past his chin and seeing him like you might view a tall elaborate building. I was in awe.

He peered down at me the smirk falling from his face. "Bella I-" he started but something about this moment felt wrong. I didn't want to have it here in my house with my mom upstairs. I wanted something more.

I could hear his heart pumping extra fast. I could see his eyes focusing in on my lips. I knew what was happening and, even though I wanted it, I didn't go for it. I took the pen from him again, pulled back beside him and said the only thing I could think of, "I can't remember what pen is in French."

His response was delayed but he answered, "Stylo."

I sighed wanting to apologize, wanting to turn back, climb around him, kiss him, but I didn't. Was I scared of rejection? Was it really the setting? What was wrong with me?

The answer hit me like a ton of bricks. I really liked Edward Cullen and he could destroy me. It's hard to give someone that power over you; it's hard to be trusting especially when they didn't tell you much about themselves.

"Stylo," I repeated as I took note that my arm was no longer against his.*

**Notes:**

*Teen clichés: Reference to 'High School Musical.' I've only seen maybe ten minutes of these movies so I know very little. I'm pretty sure there is a song about basketball though. This reference isn't supposed to be offensive or positive. I have no opinion on the movies since I haven't watched them.

*Chrysoprase: This is a green stone that is supposed to have an affinity for the heart chakra. It's supposed to heal relationships among other things. I think crystals are interesting and I do have a point in Bella purchasing this necklace other than making this chapter insanely long.

*Teen booze party/Angela's night: Oh parties, oh how many this chapter was based on… *le sigh* Angela didn't end up telling Bella about her night the day after like she said she would. It will get addressed in a later chapter.

*Pens: So I was just typing away not really paying any attention to what was coming out and then I started talking, green with envy, about people who can twirl pens. Suddenly it hit me, why can't I do that? And then the thought… 'have I ever tried?' which led to learning that I'm actually not too terrible at spinning pens around my fingers and thumb. Hurray for learning new time consuming and pointless things!

*Plot: Is there a plot or am I just typing dribble? Yes there is a plot. I know, I know I can get pretty off topic, okay well I'm on topic about one percent of the time BUT I started with a plot in my head and as I've thought about it I've let it turn from crazy to more simple.

I have this theory that a story should be a whole bunch of stories all going on at the same time. One in the focus, of course, or everything would be a large muddle. That's how life is, isn't it? There are thousands of stories going on, parents, friends, nephews, ETC. and they all impact your life but one 'thing' always seems to be in the center part of your mind.

So this story is just me working on trying to find a balance I guess.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Thanks so much for reading and the reviews are amazing and so thoughtful.**

Chapter Four: part two

And then it was December. It had become acerbic along with the colder and harsher temperature. My emotions, although confusing, were new and flipping around like a tilt a whirl but I defiantly wouldn't call _them_ cold. The opposite really, I was burning; I was happy. I shouldn't be; I should have been contemplating all the risks relationships caused but it was okay to pretend there were none when the relationship hadn't started yet. I groaned, pulling a white sweater over my head, _hadn't started?_ No, it hadn't started; it would never start.

It was hard to remember facts like that when my subconscious kept pulling me into fantasies; distracting fantasies.

I walked down the stairs letting the vagaries dance over my rational thoughts; clouding and obstructing the truth of what a conjunction of two people can really mean.

I stopped short a foot into the kitchen, "What are you doing up?" Renee was at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. She glanced up warily as if the caffeine hadn't had a chance to wake her.

"Couldn't sleep," She told me bending her chin and tipping the cup back, effectively downing the rest of the drink.

I frowned, walked over and sat next to her. "Is something wrong?" I hedged.

"Wrong," she repeated, her eyes roving around as if locating the answer, "Not wrong…"

I sighed, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Something just caught my attention last night, worried me, but _nothing_ is wrong," she spoke slowly, calculating her words as she spoke. It wasn't like her and it made me mistrust her judgment of 'wrong.'

"Well what were you doing last night?" Friday night, was she out with Phil? They went out most nights; a couple months ago I would have known exactly where she'd been. Now my thoughts were stretched over too many issues and that along with the fact that I'd gone to a midnight movie with Alice and Jasper last night had me at a loss. I'd gotten home late and hadn't bothered to check on my mother. Maybe she'd been right before, maybe I was finally turning into a teenager.

"Nothing," She blinked at the empty cup still clasped in her hands, "I just called Charlie; watched the cooking channel."

"_You_ called Charlie?" I questioned, pulling out the important piece of information.

She smiled, didn't touch her eyes, and answered, "I just wanted to clear up some things about your trip." She nodded to herself and set the mug down. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.

"And that got you thinking?"

"Well not exactly…"

"Mom," I reproved gently.

"Oh Bella," her eyes twitched and it was like she lighted from within, like her old self, her normal self, resurfaced. "Don't mind your old mom, she's just being silly. Anyway your tutor is coming over soon, right?" She didn't wait for me to answer, "And I don't want to crowd you, so, uh, I have some errands to run." She stood, patted my shoulder and started on the stairs.

Rubbing my neck in possibly unfounded tension, I took her cup and started on the dishes.

--------

Edward showed up twelve minutes earlier than our session officially started, a little earlier than he usually did. Renee had been gone for over half an hour by then and the house seemed damp and withdrawn with just a book to keep me company.

I'd been reading 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' for a change of pace but gladly shut it when the bell rang. I hurried to the foyer, tossing the book on the stairs as I went.

With a deep forgiving breath I opened the door, "Hello Edward," I greeted. I shivered as the warm air rushed toward the frigid outdoors.

Edward closed the door in a hurry, pulling off a black toque* and leaving his hair in chaotic disarray. I couldn't help laughing as he went about taking his coat, boots and mittens off revealing dark black jeans and a cotton black top.

"What?" He asked, an easy smile causing his cheeks to stretch and his teeth to show just a bit; a perfect smile.

"Your hair," I informed him reaching toward it without a thought in my head. My fingers were stroking it and patting it slightly down before I realized how forward I was being. I stopped immediately completely embarrassed.

I turned before he could see the red that had ripened my cheeks and took a few steps away. "Better?" He asked apparently unaware of the awkwardness the situation was ruling me by.

My cool hands took hold of my cheeks, cooling them though not fully controlling the red before I twisted back to look. His hair did look better, still messy but not static clinging toward the ceiling. I downcast my eyes as I replied, "You'd be the judge of that, now wouldn't you?" Joking around was much more manageable.

He laughed and with his shoulder nudged my own as if to remind me to keep moving. I hadn't noticed I'd stopped. I swallowed and followed his back as he entered the kitchen. He leaned against the wall instead of sitting down and with both his hands he examined blindly how his hair fell.

He barely touched the strands; maybe he didn't want to make it worse. "Yeah, it's better," he said grinning, his eyes lazy. He looked so calm; serene, half asleep.

"You're not sitting down?" I pointed out.

"Neither are you," he didn't open his eyes to see this, to see me standing aimlessly, but he knew, somehow.

"Any reason?"

"Actually there is." He stood erect now, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Would you be opposed to our time running a bit long?"

I shrugged, "That's fine."

"Well I have an unorthodox idea."

"Oh."

"I was thinking if you wanted, we could watch a movie."

I crinkled my nose, as I smiled, "How French…" It was a statement that meant to mock him but that came out more like a question.

"Well it is, actually."

"Huh?" eloquent again.

"A French movie."

"Oh."

He took a breath, recovered a smile that had faded and spoke again, "It's a good test to see how you're doing, or should I say, how I've been doing. There isn't a lot of dialog and I'll put on subtitles if you get lost but I think it'd be," he shrugged, "an interesting trial and error kind of thing. Would you be interested in trying?"

The expectation was not lost on me. "Sure."

"Do you have a DVD player?"

"Sure," I cocked my head to the side, telling him to follow, and walked past the kitchen and into the living room. "You have it with you?"

"Left it in my coat pocket," he told me as his footsteps patted back out of the room. I laughed quietly as I went about setting the television up. He startled me by patting my shoulder with the movie but I tried to play it off and took it without a backward glance.

The case looked like the kind for CDs, clear and thin, a jewel case, and inside was a mostly black disc. "Beauty and the Beast?"* I asked and I popped it out. As I placed it in the DVD player I returned my eyes to Edward to see him giving me a sheepish look.

"Have you seen it?" he asked from his relaxed pose on the closest couch, the one that directly faced the television. His shoulder was leaning on the arm and he was giving me an expectant look.

"I don't think I've seen this version."

"It's really the best version," he stated with a lazy half grin. I waited at the player until I could safely press 'play' not wanting to bother with finding the remote unless absolutely necessary. I fiddled with the volume as I waited for it to boot up.

"Do I need to get into the language/subtitles menu?"

"It should play the English Subs without being selected."

With his words I pressed 'play' and stood. The intro music started swirling around the room. I drew the blinds so it would be slightly darker before sitting on the other end of the sofa with Edward.

Half my brain was focusing on hearing and interpreting as the movie played the other was devoted to the boy next to me; the way I could hear his breathing the way his knee was barely touching mine. My body was angled toward his though, of course, still pivoted at the screen.

But something was stinging around me; something was choking the air out of my lungs. In the dark I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rise and hear my desperate attempts at slowing my heart rate. The movie continued and I found I really did like it, if not for its' plot for the way it had caused this sensation.

"Are you cold?" Edward whispered.

"Huh?"

"You're shivering," he pointed out.

"Oh, uh, well, sure."

He reached for the blanket that was over the back of the couch and it made me wonder how much of the room he'd memorized when the light was on. "Do you have another blanket around here?"

"Huh," I asked distractedly, "Oh no."

"Then scoot."

"Huh?"

"I'm cold too; come closer."

I blushed like mad then, bashful, but did as he instructed; my head against his neck; our thighs together. It felt good, it felt careful and strange and awkward. It felt like carefully constructed made for TV moments.

I didn't look up as his fingers brushed my arm while he tossed the blanket around us. I didn't move almost at all once I was next to him, I didn't want to spoil this moment; I'd done away with enough.

--------

And when the movie ended and the credits rolled, the music played and story lingered in my mind I finally let my head tilt back, my eyes looking up. "I think I passed your experiment."

"What?" he whispered.

"I barely needed the subtitles," I clarified.

I felt more than heard his breath, a steady drumming inside my ear; alleviating. "I'm doing a good job."

I smiled at him closing my eyes, feeling tired, drained; feeling that midnight movie and the agitation cooling down.

I liked these flashing seconds with him; I liked the way his weight felt against me. I liked the way his hair was falling around him and the way the TV screen was bright enough and aimed just right that I could see the colour of his eyes. I liked the way he made me feel and the way, even blinded as I was, I could feel his eyes watching me.

I loved the way his arm moved against me, how his body twitched every so often. I did.

"You're a good teacher."

"You've been a good student."

"Thank-you."

"Are you falling asleep?" he hummed half under his breath; the soft cotton of his shirt caressing my fingertips as they moved under our blanket.

"No, are you?"

"Not falling, already."

I laughed the way you do in a dream though I wasn't dreaming and let my eyes slide open. "How can you be asleep with your eyes open?"

"It's hard to explain."

I looked down, away from him, "You are a master of words; too complicated? Or am I simply a lost case?"

"No, you'd understand; you'll understand eventually, one day."*

I smiled, returning my gaze to his. "You make everything sound beautiful."

His breath blew across the top of my head, letting my words sink in. His eyes tracing my face, watching everything move; contour to him. And then his right hand freed itself from the blanket and his knuckle was against my cheek and I didn't know what to say or what to do.

Just as suddenly he removed the extra contact and looked down at his closed hand; I followed. An eyelash lay just at the tip of his index knuckle, and his head bent closer and while I stared at that tiny curve he blew it away* into the warm room*.

His nose swept my hair instead of lowering like I wanted him to and then he was moving in earnest and I was left feeling an emptiness that couldn't be contained.

--------

Edward didn't take my money for our session that day, as he left me still wrapped in that blanket, at the doorway. He said he'd see me Wednesday and to watch the movie again.

His smell remained on me the rest of the day, it almost smelled like wet oak, like music reeds when they're damp, and honey. A soft masculine sent that I was worried would fade too soon.

--------

I was in the kitchen putting the food away as Renee showed Phil out. He'd come for supper Monday night and so Renee and I had locked ourselves in the kitchen since school let out. I'd banished her to chopping because, honestly, she could barely do even that.

She was thankful as we worked, letting the praise come on thick without a mention of the previous morning or Charlie. Instead we talked about average things, movies, music, her kids at school, my friends. She didn't bring up Edward and I didn't bring up Phil.

So it really took me by surprise when my ears caught the end of Renee's goodbye, "Love you Hun, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Love you too, see you later," he replied and I could just make out a smacking, smooching, sucking sound.

I almost dropped the dish I was carrying.

I set the dish on the counter and flicked my attention to the kitchen entrance waiting for my mother to make her appearance; she usually helped me clean for a job this big.

"You didn't tell me you _loved_ him," I accused.

She didn't try to back peddle like she normally would about her feelings for a guy instead she said, "I do."

"And how long have you known him even?"

She rolled her eyes and she walked past me to scrape the pan that had been soaking in the sink. "Long enough."

"And you didn't tell me," I tried not to sound as hurt as I felt.

"Well it was the first time we said it," she justified.

"What? Really, just out the door like that?" I didn't say the rest of that sentence that was clouding my head '_how romantic,' _because even inside my head I heard how rude that sounded. But it was a valid point. Neither had even bothered to dress their 'love' up for the other. Weren't those words supposed to be special?

"When you feel it you have to say it regardless if the moment doesn't look so opportune."

I ignored the strange aching feeling her words left, "And how long have you known?"

"Huh, about how I've felt?"

"Yeah."

"Well it almost seems like the moment we met I knew something. But it didn't exactly hit me until I watched that cooking show."

"What cooking show?" I finished setting the food, all perfectly sealed away from the degenerating air, in the fridge and had moved on to wiping the counters and table with a wet cloth.

"Don't you remember?"

"Uh, no."

"Remember I said that I was worried yesterday morning, that something had caught my attention, made me think."

"Yeah..."

"Well that cooking show, I was watching it and suddenly I knew I loved Phil. Really loved him, more than I've ever loved any man."

I felt a pang for Charlie but didn't comment. Instead I listened as she started humming along to a song from the seventies that she used to beg me to learn to play on the piano. Fat chance learning a complicated song like that, I could barely manage scales.

Finally I asked the question that was plaguing me, "How do you know you're in love? How do you even know what it feels like?"

Her humming lulled, "It's like everything feels better; like every time you see him you feel, just _feel._ And even when you're not with him you think about him almost like you're always waiting for a chance to talk about him because you know he's important; important to you. You find yourself at the grocery store thinking, 'wow he'd really like these oranges' or in class looking at childish artwork thinking, 'my, that scribble kinda resembles Phil.' Sometimes I'll be walking around in clothing stores and picking out shirts that match his hair."

And I couldn't help pressing my fingers to the necklace that was hidden under my shirt, thinking how that was how I felt about Edward.

"And I know I'm in love because I care what he thinks about, I care what he cares about. It's not an exact science. People can fall in and out of love continually but you know just somehow _know_, when the right love comes about."

Renee kept talking, kept explaining about love, but I didn't hear another word. My fingers had pried the crystal from out of my shirt, my eyes had glued themselves to the colour and my mind was reeling putting my emotions into easily classifiable rows, facts and blueprints.

Where was the logic in the heart?

**Notes:**

* Toque: I'm really not sure if toques are a Canadian thing or not but they are kind of like a giant sock you wear on your head. Wait, wait, wait that sounds really stupid. I think some people call them beanies, but when I look that up on google images I get one of those kid hats with the windmill things on the top. So really it's a hat you wear when it's cold.

* 'Beauty and the Beast:' So here we go another French movie. This one was directed by Jean Cocteau, came out in 1946, and is to my knowledge well known.

* Edward's strange understand everything one day speech: Hmm, doesn't really sound like he's talking about the same thing Bella is, now does he. Nope, sure doesn't.

* Eyelash: There is an urban legend that you'll get a wish if you blow an eyelash away from off the back of your hand. So if that whole part sounded insane, well, I thought that was a common belief.

* Warm room: Okay, I had to write this; it made me smile a lot. Bella fully admits that the room is warm here so the whole sharing a blanket because they're cold is total BS. I don't know why I always seem to write about people sharing blankets…


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Thank you guys so much for the comments and alerts. It's such a nice warm feeling seeing that people are reading. I just hope as I update I'm learning and getting just a tiny bit better at writing.**

Chapter Four: part three

I stared out the big window that covered one whole wall, watching as the snow drifted mutely to the ground. It was a weird combination, watching the cold outdoors while I sat lounging on a pool recliner in my bathing suit. A bathing suit I hadn't worn it over a year, a blue tankini that I'd only worn twice before.

"And then Mike was asking me about the difference between then and than because we were having that English test," Jessica was saying loudly talking over the splashing and shouting coming from the water, "So I told him we should get together to help each other study and one thing led to another and we started making out." I flipped my eyes back to her and Angela in mild surprise. Mike moved quickly, it made me grin and I had to hold a laugh.

Angela smiled easily, "That's incredibly brave," she stated sincerely.

"Brave?" Jessica asked. A blow up beach ball landed right beside her with a wet smack and she quickly picked it up and tossed it to a young boy who was waving his hands up.

"Sorry," he called. Jessica waved her hand out in front of her to express how it was no problem before returning her attention to Angela.

"I just don't think I'd be able to bridge that gap."

I rolled my neck around. I'd been listening to pointless girl talk from mostly Jessica all night and it was nice to hear Angela speak up. Actually I'd been listening to pointless girl talk a lot lately. Angela had been planning weird girl oriented get togethers* since the night of the party, inviting Jessica along often times as well as a few other girls she was closer to.

Tonight was just another event and I had to admit I'd enjoyed it more than the other times. At least tonight we'd gotten in a little swimming along with the stereotypical teenage babble.

It was Tuesday night and I was exhausted, school had been long and I was tired but I had agreed to hang out and I couldn't break my word to Angela. There was something telling me she wouldn't be comfortable with just Jessica keeping her company.

"From 'studying' to kissing?" Jessica questioned drying her hair out with the towel she'd brought.

"From talking about school to asking him over," Jessica clarified shyly.

Jessica's face lit up, "There's someone you're trying to nab, huh?"

Angela bashfully looked down and I had to interrupt, "Jess if she doesn't want to talk about it don't force it," I was trying my best to seem passively stern. I didn't want Jessica to take my words as a mean command but I did want to watch out for Angela.

Jessica's eyes flipped to me quickly before returning to poor Angela. Neither seemed to mind my suggestion; Angela was playing with the board shorts she was wearing over her dark brown one piece while Jessica was leaning forward in gossipy interest.

"It's just, well, you know how I am," Angela mumbled. "Boys and I don't go together well."

Jessica made a PSHT sound that drew Angela's eyes back up. "You were dating Erick," she pointed out.

"But he's Erick," she enthused, "It's not like he's Ryan Reynolds*."

I laughed, "You don't give yourself enough credit," I told my friend.

"You really don't," Jessica added. I was suddenly proud of Jessica; I hadn't expected such kind words from her lips. It wasn't like she was cruel just that she wasn't exactly the complimenting type. She liked gossip and tragedies and sometimes I let those aspects of her personality overshadow the fact that she was a nice person. Sometimes, I was embarrassed to admit, I generalized her.

"But it's like I'm stuck here. I'm stuck feeling this way," Angela whispered.

I pulled my legs around the recliner, planting my feet on the ground, and turned my full attention on the two girls.

"Well you've got to do something to get out of your funk then," Jessica offered, "There _is_ someone else, isn't there?" She said it slowly; like it wasn't the gossip she could easily play with Wednesday morning in class.

"I like someone," Angela said vaguely.

"So what's the problem? Did he turn you down?" Jessica asked without missing a beat.

"He's dating someone else."

My eyes widened, "How do you know that?" I cut in before Jessica could open her mouth.

"At the party," Angela returned looking down again, "He was kissing this beautiful blond girl." Well that explained her pity party, not that I minded it in the least.

"Well that doesn't mean he's taken," Jessica smiled, "People do stupid things at parties. People kiss and fool around, they get together and break up, in the morning a lot of the nights' events don't matter."

I didn't know if that made Angela feel any better, it wouldn't have made me feel any better, anyway. "She's right," I played along, "You don't know for certain he's seeing her, do you?"

"He didn't say anything about a girlfriend," Angela admitted, "But he never seemed like _that_ type of boy." In her quiet pause I heard the words she didn't say '_I don't want him to be that type of boy'_ and it made me feel sorry for her. "I just don't want to try to get involved if it'll end with heartbreak. I already feel… I already feel… awful."

I patted her knee and she gave me a tiny smile that didn't light her face up in any way, "So ask him." Jessica was logical, straight to the point, you could never argue that.

"It's not that easy how would you even bring that kind of thing up*," I spoke up.

"Well she talks to the guy, right?" We both turned to Angela who nodded shyly. "You talk to him about lots of things, right? Not just school; life stuff?" Angela nodded again. "Well if you really want to know you'll find a way to fit the question into conversation."

"I don't want to seem pushy," Angela murmured.

"If you don't want to try, that's fine, but how much do you really care about him if you won't even _try_." I had to admit Jessica's logic was startlingly sensible.

"Maybe," Angela answered noncommittally.

"So you're not going to tell me who, are you?" Jessica added.

Angela laughed, "I don't want to say until I know for sure where things are going. I don't want to jinx it." She took a deep breath, "don't be offended, it's not you, it's just I already feel so embarrassed about this all. I'll tell you later, I promise."

Jessica only looked slightly bothered, "We'll get ice cream* next week; you'll tell me then?" she formed it like a question but I heard the command and I was sure Angela did as well.

"Sure," Angela agreed.

--------

After Angela had dropped Jessica home and was heading over to my place I spoke up, "You don't have to tell her about Ben."

"I know I don't."

"It's just Jessica can be kind of pushy and you shouldn't feel obligated to tell her everything, not if you don't want to."

"Jessica's a little pushy I'll admit but its nice hearing her perspective on guys. It's nice thinking for ten minutes that it could really be so easy. I think I owe her the truth, I know it's nothing major and I trust her not to go around telling everyone."

"I like Jessica, she's a nice girl but just promise me you'll think about the possible consequences. The more people who know the better chance it can get out. I'm not saying Jessica would blab but… well you should just be aware that it could happen."

Angela sighed, "No, I know what you mean. You're looking out for me and I appreciate it, I do, but I also kind of want to ask Jessica what she thinks about my situation, like the whole thing, all the details…" She trailed off and for about a minute the car was silent. "Do you really think Ben kissing another girl could be nothing."

"A kiss is sometimes just a kiss," I pointed out. "Sometimes it doesn't mean anything to the other person."*

"I really want to believe that."

"You really never know and the truth is I think you're close enough with Ben that he'd tell you about a girlfriend."

"That was what really surprised me," Angela's words exploded out. "I really think, really, really think, he would have told me about a girlfriend. I mean he definitely talks about his friends and family and all that kind of thing and teenagers, well they always seem to talk about the opposite sex, you know, he would have said something," she tapped the break as we pulled into my driveway, "I think so anyway," she whispered.

"Don't worry so much. If it doesn't work out maybe it wasn't meant to be." I cracked the door causing the overhead light to reveal her nodding absently lost in her own thoughts, "You're a great person Angela, you're a good friend, an amazing listener and beautiful; if Ben can't see that he isn't worth a penny."

"Thanks Bella."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, have a good night." I watched as her car drove off really hoping that girl meant nothing to Ben, really hoping Angela got the chance she deserved.

--------

Wednesday crept up on me, both too soon and not soon enough. I'd spent a lot of the week obsessively thinking about Edward and yet hadn't come to any sound conclusions. It was hard to focus when my thoughts kept lingering on him.

Studying with Edward was normal; I guess after my big realization I thought everything would be different but it wasn't like that. Yet it _was_ different too, there was something charging in the air, something unspoken hanging on my tongue. Even though all the actions were familiar there was something small off. Maybe it was just my conception; my altered reality.

Edward had been going over pronunciation; it was what I was having the most trouble with lately; nothing unusual at all. He'd finished altering my mistaken pronunciation when I decided to breach a personal change of topic.

"Christmas is coming; are you staying in the city?" out of the blue maybe. His nose scrunched up like he didn't want to discuss it and because of that I'd charged ahead, "Because, well, I'm not, I'm going to visit my dad," as I spoke I realized how much I wanted to say these things out loud, "And I guess I'm worried."

"Worried about what?" He placed his hand on my shoulder, a comforting gesture; nothing but friendly. His eyes grew wider; earnest. I realized with a start he was empathetic even if he didn't fully understand my stance on Charlie.

"Just, you know the fact that I haven't seen him in forever. I don't know what we're going to talk about and we're going to be stuck together for a week," I took a breath and pretty much reiterated what I'd just said, "and we're not going to have anything to say to each other."

Edward's thumb rubbed a soothing circle on my bone, "You're worrying about nothing, he loves you," he seemed to pause as if asking a question, the skin around his eyes crinkled with his own form of worry.

"He does," I clarified and the wrinkles cleared out.

"So you have nothing to fear."

"Fear," I made a tiny scoff sound, "It's not fear per say, maybe just, like uneasiness, or _something_," because, to be honest, I wasn't sure what the right word was for the apprehension I felt.

More than anything I'd surprised myself by admitting that I felt anything off about my trip.

"You don't have to go, do you?"

I thought about that for a moment, "I have to. Renee won't be here and I really do need to see him. I mean he's my father right, he matters to me and I matter to him. I know he'd never say anything but he misses us, my mom and me. He's stuck all alone and I know he has friends and neighbours and work buddies but those people aren't the same as the people you love."

Edward had let me rant but he hadn't stayed stationary as I'd gone on and on. I guess I hadn't been paying enough attention. The hand that had rested on my shoulder had moved up to cup my cheek, holding me, locking me in his gaze. "It's important to be with the people you love," he whispered, "I think, if all you've said is true, Charlie appreciates your visit."

His breath was warm, directed at my mouth, and his eyes were so close. There was something inescapable about the way he was looking at me and my lips parted, ready.

But instead of moving in like I really thought he was going to he dropped his hand and turned back to the notebooks on the table and my stomach plummeted. It wasn't rejection, maybe hesitance. We'd both felt something, even if it hadn't dawned on me till the end.

So we worked on my French as the minutes ticked by and I started feeling ill. It didn't pass my notice that he didn't look up the entire time while I sat awkwardly blushing and fidgeting; barely paying attention to what he was saying. He didn't bother to ask me any questions as he rushed the lesson, didn't seem to notice that I might not be following.

Just as suddenly he was standing and rushing for the door saying that our time was up and that he should be going. It shocked me so much that I almost didn't reach the foyer in time to see him off. If it hadn't been December maybe I would have missed him. I approached him just as he was slipping his shoes on looking fazed holding his mitts, his coat already on.

My vision went blurry and instead of giving him twenty dollars I walked right up to him and tilted my face toward his looking up at him from my 5 foot 4 height. I wanted to say something, speak, but looking at him from where I stood the words halted and fell apart.

I guess I wasn't the only one I'd taken by surprise because Edward stalled his race for clothing. His hands landed on my shoulders, his eyes entranced and in those eyes I felt something sad, longing; something asking me to walk away but praying for closeness. Yet all I could think about was the fact that he must have dropped his gloves because he wasn't wearing or holding them, stupid how my brain was thinking about wasteful things like that.

I wanted to be bold; I wanted to stop the games, the hesitations, the missed opportunities. I wanted to be courageous for once but it was Edward that incredibly slowly, action movie replay slow, bent and angled his face to mine. The closer he came the more I was sure of him, the more I thought this wasn't a one sided infatuation.

When his lips brushed mine I knew something was wrong with my heart, electricity was raging through my veins and the lower half of my body went numb.

I'd never kissed anyone before, not counting family cheeks and five year old naiveties. I'd never kissed anyone I'd liked on the mouth, hadn't even held a boys' hand. So this was all unexpected. His lips were soft, much softer then I would have imagined lips to feel and slightly warm, as they touched mine lightly.

I didn't move; didn't know what to do. His nose was touching mine and somewhere alone the line I'd closed my eyes; instinct?

There are moments in life where everything turns inside out; cores; where everything you thought you understood alters. A moment where everything jinxes; worlds collide; everything is full of possibilities…

At least that's what Hallmark* cards lead humanity to believe.

So maybe I could blame the Hallmark greeting card company for the lack of judgement I showed; could blame them for putting sappy, saccharine thoughts in my head. Then again maybe I should have taken control of myself. Maybe I should have shown restraint…

Maybe that would change my destiny; maybe then I wouldn't have kissed Edward Cullen or if you wanted to be technical: let him kiss me*.

It's funny how huge events can happen; how two seconds before they occur you'd swear to whatever deity you acknowledge that they'd never. It's odd how an entire land of possibilities can sprout from just that one tiny seed.

The kiss was perfect, chaste, innocent, one of those kisses you see in movies that make you root for the couple; intense, unsure, beautiful.

He had started the kiss and he was the one to end it. As he pulled back my eyes slid open, my breath knocked out of me. He smiled at me like he'd won some prize, like his mouth wasn't listening to reason.

I was at a loss for words.

Then he blinked a couple times and walked out the door leaving me truly immobile in my mother's foyer; thoughtless.

**Notes:**

*Girl get togethers: Angela was organizing these to hear other girl's stories about boys, to get a better perspective on her own situation. I think this is understandable considering in this story she mostly hangs out with Bella who is a lot like her; shy.

* Ryan Reynolds: A Canadian actor.

* Bringing things up: I really, honestly, think there are so many times where bringing up an embarrassing question can fix so many misconceptions. I like the fact that Jessica cuts the BS. I guess that is a lot like me, I'm really straight forward about stuff like that in reality.

* Ice Cream: Yeah I'm laughing, Jessica and Angela are going out in the middle of December to get ice cream. I think the reason why I find this so funny is because my friends and I do that type of thing all the time. Sometimes I'm sure I have no common sense.

* Kisses can mean nothing: I wanted to write this because it's a nice juxtaposition for the ending, or at least I think so.

* Hallmark Greeting Cards: An American based company that sells greeting cards that I associate with the sappy side of life.

* Romance: Like before I really think when the romantic situations run I like a certain kind of silence. Maybe it's because words only muddle up actions, I'm not sure. In the end I edited this part like mad and I hope it runs smoothly and is, at least slightly, visual because for me I tried to imagine everything in my head before attempting to write.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Wow, am I actually updating something? It looks like I am. It's been a while, a **long** while, but look something new! I didn't know where to take it after the kiss. I had more or less planned for the kiss to happen a couple chapters later and I know that sounds crazy because this is something, like, update number thirteen and I STILL hadn't gotten to a kiss but then that all changed so… I didn't know exactly where that left me.**

**Anyway, thank-you guys all so much. I can't believe there are 80 reviews on this story. That is beyond crazy to me.**

"Someday I'll forget the colour of your eyes, the sound of your voice will be unfamiliar. Someday I'll forget that I once loved you, the feelings will have faded, someday I'll forget"

Chapter Five: part one

The rest of Wednesday passed without a thought and Thursday trailed after like an over excited puppy. By Friday I was starting to wonder if I'd imaged the kiss. It made more sense, didn't it; just a dream, just a fantasy, just something fanciful. If Edward's gloves weren't resting on my bookshelf I would have sworn it didn't happen at all. But they were there, they were.

If anyone tried to talk to me at school before the weekend hit I probably looked like I was brushing them off. It wasn't that I didn't care about their lives it was just I cared about mine more. It was a selfish thing and I wasn't used to acting that way but I guess it was fair, wasn't it? I spent so much of my time hearing everyone else out, shouldn't I get one moment?

My mother was off in her own head, out most of the time and yammering away about Phil for the remaining seconds. I couldn't remember a word.

It was like my brain wouldn't stop replaying the action I'd gotten. God, the 'action I'd gotten,' it sounded much more intense that way didn't it? It was the most 'action' I'd ever gotten though and I couldn't imagine anything that could remotely match the intensity. Sure it was maybe a ten second kiss, sure it was a peck in definition but it was also everything.

Maybe the days went by so quickly because I was scared of what would happen Saturday and yet expectant, excited; basically incorrigible. What would Edward say about the kiss, what would I say? I wondered if the rest of our sessions would be awkward and Edward would feel uncomfortable and regretful.

I spent Friday night tossing books in my room, reading random paragraphs before my mind would free the page and roam Edward. I would find myself sitting cross-legged on the bed, lying on the floor smiling like a mad person staring just over the book. When I would catch myself I'd blink, grab another book and try again. Sometimes instead of the stupid happy look I'd find myself glum with worry.

I didn't want to regret that kiss; I didn't want to feel bad and I didn't want Edward to quit on me. Was it so much to ask of the world to give me this one thing; this one person? Yes, it was.

It hurt to imagine not waiting and looking forward to spending time with him. And yes I did know that I was paying him for his time but, to me, it was worth it. His time was worth a lot more than what I paid. Still, my insides twanged knowing the only way I'd get Edward to spend time alone with me was by giving him cash. It made me feel like a suit, like an old man driving down 22nd street after one in the morning looking for hookers; like a pervert; and all we'd done was kissed.

-------

But out of all the things I'd worried about Thursday and Friday the thing I hadn't counted on was Renee.

"Do you have coffee?" She asked as she stumbled into the kitchen while I waited on anticipated toes. I dropped the bagel I was nibbling to eye my mother. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she was fully dressed; black slacks and a magenta satin dress shirt.

I pointed to the coffee maker too surprised to bother getting it for her. I watched her as she walked toward the cupboard and poured herself a cup of the dark brown liquid. She was four sips in when my mouth caught up. "I wasn't expecting you up." My words felt and sounded bland but the fact was I had a bad feeling about this, about her.

"Tossed and turned all night, finally gave up and rolled out of bed."

"Nightmares?" I asked intrigued by something other than Edward for the first time in days.

"That would require actual sleep," She laughed at her own joke, "No, no just life, you know, thoughts. I heard your shower running an hour ago; thought I might as well join you in the land of the living. I know I know you have your tutor session thing but after that we could go shopping or something."

My eyes tightened; I didn't know what to say to her. I swallowed the saliva that had gathered in my mouth. It wasn't that she was doing anything wrong it was just I had wanted to talk to Edward on my own and instead, well instead my mother was going to be milling around and ruining all chance for more… intimate talk. Not intimate kissing, I didn't think I was ready for that, but talk.

"Right, yeah sounds good." I ran my hand through my hair twisting around to check the clock. My heart stuttered, noticing he would probably be here in less than five minutes.

"I was thinking downtown shopping and you know that new movie theatre is up and running; we could catch a mid afternoon movie. A chick flick, something cheesy with attractive movie star boys and wispy confused girls with perfect hair even when submerged in too blue ocean water kissing their beautiful co-star.*"

I blinked in stupidity. "Yeah, sure, sure."

I heard her take a long sip of coffee, heard her place it on the counter as I stared down at the dining table reading and rereading the cover of my French notebook that literally said no more than 'French' and 'Hilroy* subject 5 sujets notebook cahier 360 pages 26.7 x 20.3 cm.' My face felt hot and I realized I was embarrassed for no reason I could discern.

She sat down across from me and I had to stuff the bagel in my mouth to stop the unnecessary sob that strangely curled around inside my esophagus*. "I'm not done Christmas shopping actually. I guess Saturday isn't exactly a good time to go what with the mobs but it'll be fun searching for steals. Right?" I darted my softened eyes upward.

I forced a quirky smile on my lips, "I'm not done shopping either."

Renee yawned just then never quite seeing my, most likely, frantic look. The doorbell rang and my body twitched out of my chair. As my heartbeat grew steadily louder all other sound dulled. Each step felt epic, like a violation. The second my hand touched the cold knob I thought I would black out. I was thrown; I didn't know how to act.

For the first time I seriously wondered if, given the chance, I would take back the kiss. Better to avoid this confusion; right?

I opened the door and he stared at me and I stared back. His face didn't betray his emotions and I had no idea what mine was doing. I shuffled a couple steps back as he slipped out of his shoes. It was eerily quiet except for the flipping of paper coming from the kitchen. I didn't know what Renee was doing; all I knew was that I wanted my mother out of the house immediately.

I felt like a traitor. My mother had raised me, hadn't she, she deserved respect and here I was just wishing the floor would cave in so I could talk in private with a boy that was so out of my league I felt like a tiny tot playing softball compared to the Braves*.

Edward didn't take off his coat, his fingers shoved into the pockets as he stood in the foyer. He shut the door with the back of his sock clad foot. "Hey."

My lip trembled at the sound of his voice and I opened my own mouth, "Uh, hi."

He tentatively smiled or at least his upper right lip reacted in what I would have said was a smile if he didn't look so anxious. "I, uh, I," he trailed off coughing to clear a throat that was so obviously clear already that I knew he was just kicking time around. "Well I guess I just wanted to say that I wa-"

"Bella," My mother called from the other room. "Have you seen the new 'Sears' catalogue? Because you know there are actually some cute shoes in it. I know you're thinking 'Sears' shoes, right? How tacky, how sixty-year old teacher's assistant*, but really I think if I like them they have to be better than what you're imagining. I have the better taste." She laughed and I wanted to vomit.

No, no what I wanted was to hear the rest of what Edward had been about to say. Well I guess that depended on what he was about to say.

Edward's eye had glazed past me, staring at the kitchen, or what he could see of the kitchen from where he was positioned and suddenly my priorities switched. Now all I wanted to do was tell him she wasn't acting as my buffer to the conversation of doom we were likely to have, just that she was bat-shit crazy and my mother and I didn't know how to tell her off nicely because, to be frank, I'd never had to before.

"To say that you were; what?" I whispered ignoring my mother.

He yanked his eyes away from the other voice and reoriented to me. "That I was…" he trailed off again. I bit the inside of my lip as I waited him out.

When I couldn't stand it any longer, which to be fair wasn't really long just my perspective of long, I spoke. "I'm so sorry for uh, the other day, and how I acted, because you're my tutor and I was, uh, acting out of line?" The whole thing came out as a question, came out of some large part of me that wanted to smooth everything over.

He nodded, his eyebrows curled in utter confusion and I knew that what I felt for him was bursting at my seams; dangerously close to venting themselves out.

He shook his head twice and he walked past me and into the kitchen and I trailed behind like so many times before. My mother was still sitting there, still flipping through a catalogue that, I swear, had popped out of no where. She glanced up, "Hey."

"Hello," Edward responded like a perfect gentleman. "How are you?"

My mother smiled like the easy person she was, "Just dandy and yourself?"

"Fine." Renee squinted, looking between us no doubt because everyone knew the code word for 'fine' was 'dastardly not fine' or at the very least 'not good.'

"You look tired," She observed making me reassess Edward. Sure enough he did look tired; I guess there was a lot of that going around in this house. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked paler if that were possible.

He made a quiet grunting sound as he sat down next to my mother. "Easily remedied."

I took my seat next to Edward knowing that my mom would ask too many questions if I sat across from him. "Easy to say harder to do."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well isn't that cheerful," I declared trying my best to change the dark mood.

"We'll look at those shoes later," she stood up taking her magazine with her as she left for the family room. The sounds of the television turning on and then turned down met my ears. She never listened to the TV this quiet, she was eavesdropping.

I blushed, horrified. "Can we talk about, uh, furniture?" Edward questioned.

"Huh?"

"Translating," he clarified. "Like, uh, couch for instance would be…"

And catching on I answered him in my shady poorly conceived French accent ignoring my mother in the other room listening, ignoring my beating heart and ignoring that searing kiss because Edward was.

And because he didn't want to acknowledge any of them they didn't exist.

**Notes:**

*Chick Flick: I have no idea why I write Renee like this. She's just all run on strange sentences and the oddest configuration of words. I also don't know why I imagine chick flicks like this. I think it's because I'm sick and it feels very late.

*Hilroy: A company that makes notebooks. I'm really not sure if these notebooks are worldwide or Canadian or what. I tried to wiki it together but I kept getting chemical companies so goggle told me it is a company based out of Ontario. Which is funny because I used to live in Ontario and nobody ever told me about the grand school supplies we were producing but then again I was five…

*Sobbing: To me this makes sense but I think to a normal non sick person Bella's stifled sob might come across as incredibly dramatic and oddly misplaced. In a situation like the above I could see the anticipation getting squashed and turning to misery. Yeah this is a sign I need sleep.

*Braves: An Atlanta, Georgia baseball team. I don't follow sports so I don't know if they are a good team but I watch TBS sometimes and they're always going on and on about the Braves.

*Tacky Sears shoes: This is in no way my opinion on Sears shoes. I just couldn't think of a large catalogue that had shoes in it other than the Sears catalogue, which coincidentally I used to have to deliver. If you want a workout get a job delivery those things. Seriously I think I broke my arms five ways to Sunday.


End file.
